PIERRE   DU   RYER 


DRAMATIST 


BY 

HENRY   CARRINGTON    LANCASTER 

PROFESSOR  OF  ROMANCE  LANGUAGES  IN  AMHERST  COLLEGE 


WASHINGTON,  D.   C. 

PUBLISHED  BY  THE  CARNEGIE  INSTITUTION  OF  WASHINGTON 

1913 


A    PAT?  T  s 

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,  on  in  mcsr£falti,  a  la  P 


ii  de  'France 


LPIERRE   DU    RYER^ 


DRAMATIST 


BY 


HENRY    CARRINGTON    LANCASTER 

u 

PROFESSOR  OF  ROMANCE  LANGUAGES  IN  AMHERST  COLLEGE 


WASHINGTON,  D.   C. 

PUBLISHED    BY   THE  CARNEGIE   INSTITUTION   OF  WASHINGTON 

1912 


CARNEGIE  INSTITUTION  OF  WASHINGTON 
PUBLICATION  No.  171 


Ube  Knickerbocker  fttee,  Hew  J&ork 


PREFACE. 

The  second  quarter  of  the  seventeenth  century  is  of  vital 
importance  in  the  history  of  the  French  drama.  It  was  then  that 
the  form  of  classic  tragedy  peculiar  to  France  was  created,  that 
the  comedy  won  value  by  substituting  the  portrayal  of  manners 
for  the  representation  of  farcical  and  romantic  adventures,  and 
that  the  tragi-comedy  was  at  the  height  of  its  popularity.  Some 
persons  have  believed  that  this  period  could  be  sufficiently  under- 
stood by  the  consideration  of  Corneille's  theater  alone.  Others, 
perceiving  the  superficiality  of  this  view,  have  turned  to  minor 
writers  of  the  time,  and  carried  on  investigations  that  led  to  excel- 
lent studies  of  Hardy,  Rotrou,  Tristan,  and  Mairet.  But  Du  Ryer, 
though  as  important  as  these,  has  been  neglected.  Twelve  of 
his  pieces  illustrate  various  forms  of  the  tragi-comedy,  from  the 
play  of  romantic  adventure  to  the  classical  tragi-comedy  with 
its  careful  treatment  of  a  few  persons  in  a  few  situations.  His 
one  comedy  is  an  early  representation  of  local  conditions  and 
surroundings.  His  six  tragedies,  the  most  valuable  and  success- 
ful of  his  pieces,  were  second  only  to  the  works  of  Corneille  in 
establishing  the  French  classic  type  of  tragedy.  When  studied 
as  a  whole,  his  theater  shows  a  constant  progress  away  from  the 
loose  and  sensational  methods  of  his  predecessors  to  a  simple, 
united,  and  profound  conception  of  dramatic  art,  a  process  which 
shows  the  development  of  both  Du  Ryer  and  his  audience  through 
the  twenty-five  years  of  his  activity  as  a  playwright. 

Francois  Colletet's  life  of  Du  Ryer  is  lost.  Pellisson,  Sorel, 
the  fr&res  Parfaict,  Jal,  and  others  have  given  him  little  space. 
Fournier  united  many  of  the  facts  stated  by  these  writers  with 
a  number  of  his  own  opinions  in  the  introduction  to  his  reprint 
of  Du  Ryer's  Vendanges  de  Suresne.  In  spite  of  its  errors,  this 
article1  remained  the  principal  work  on  Du  Ryer  until  K.  Philipp 
published  a  dissertation  entitled  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben  und  dra- 

1  ThSdtre  franf ais  au  seizieme  et  au  dix-septieme  sitde:  Paris  (1871),  vol.  H.,  68-75. 

Hi 


iv  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

matische  Werke,1  which  to  Founder's  article  added  analyses  and 
criticisms  of  the  plays  and  some  new  facts  and  ideas,  especially 
in  regard  to  Du  Ryer's  influence  on  Campistron.  This  disserta- 
tion is  not  without  merit,  as  will  be  shown  by  subsequent  reference, 
but  it  is  by  no  means  a  definitive  treatise.  Certain  documents 
connected  with  Du  Ryer's  life  were  unknown  to  its  author. 
He  should  have  studied  more  carefully  those  already  at  hand, 
including  Du  Ryer's  translations,  lyric  poems,  dedications,  etc. 
His  dates  are  often  at  fault.  He  seems  to  have  taken  two  analyses 
from  La  Vallie're  without  having  read  the  plays  to  which  they 
refer.  He  is  not  acquainted  with  a  number  of  sources  that  Du 
Ryer  can  now  be  shown  to  have  used,  nor  does  he  study  with 
pains  the  sources  with  which  he  is  acquainted.  His  book  leaves 
us  without  an  accurate  biography  of  Du  Ryer  or  a  thorough 
criticism  of  his  plays. 

It  was  with  the  hope  of  writing  a  more  informing  biography 
and  a  more  ample  criticism  that  I  undertook  the  present  work. 
It  is  the  result  of  researches  made  chiefly  at  the  National,  Arsenal, 
and  Mazarine  Libraries  of  Paris,  and  at  the  British  Museum.  I 
have  treated  Du  Ryer  as  a  dramatist  only,  using  his  lyric  poems 
and  his  translations  merely  so  far  as  they  concern  his  other  work. 
The  biography  is  followed  by  four  chapters  on  his  twenty  pieces, 
by  a  general  criticism  of  his  dramatic  productions,  and  by  two 
appendices  that  list  his  plays  and  translations  in  their  various 
editions. 2  The  frontispiece  and  vignettes  are  taken  from  a  copy 
of  the  first  edition  of  Du  Ryer's  Saul  (Paris,  1642)  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  Johns  Hopkins  University,  graciously  loaned  by  that 
institution  for  reproduction  here. 

I  am  indebted  to  the  late  Professor  A.  M.  Elliott  for  his  spe- 
cial interest  in  this  book,  as  well  as  for  the  never-failing  sympathy 
he  extended  to  his  former  students  in  their  various  undertakings. 
For  advice  and  other  assistance  I  wish  to  thank  M.  Paul  Bonnefon, 
M.  Gustave  Lanson,  and  Professor  E.  C.  Armstrong. 

1  Zwickau,  1905. 

1  In  giving  French  titles  and  quotations,  I  follow  the  orthography  of  the  original 
documents  except  in  the  case  of  works  as  well  known  as  those  of  Corneille,  Racine, 
and  Moliere,  where  the  usage  of  contemporary  French  has  been  preferred. 


CONTENTS 

PAGES 

PREFACE          .        . iii 

CHAPTER  I :  LIFE. 

The  name  ;  proof  that  Isaac  Du  Ryer  was  Pierre's  father  ;  Isaac's  work, 
character,  and  influence  on  his  son  ;  date  of  Pierre's  birth  ;  his  youth  ; 
life  as  secretary  to  the  king  ;  lyric  poems  ;  protectors  and  friends  ; 
first  marriage  ;  life  as  secretary  to  Venddme  ;  election  to  the  Academy  ; 
life  at  Picpus,  poverty,  letter  to  a  friend,  letter  to  Conrart ;  second 
marriage,  last  days,  date  of  death  ;  reputation  as  a  dramatist ;  trans- 
lations, their  reputation,  value,  and  influence  on  his  other  work  .  1-31 

CHAPTER  II :  EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES. 

Aretaphile ;   Clitophon  ;  Argenis  et  Poliarque  and  Argenis ;  Lisandre  et 

Caliste 33-55 

CHAPTER  III :  TRAGI-COMEDIES  OF  THE  MIDDLE  PERIOD,  PASTORAL,  COMEDY. 
Amarillis ;  Alcimedon  ;  Les  Vendanges  de  Suresne  ;  Cleomedon  or  Rossy- 

leon ;  Clarigene    .........  57~82 

CHAPTER  IV :  TRAGEDIES. 

Lucrece ;  Alcionee ;  Saill;  Esther;  Sceuole ;  Themistocle    .          .         .         83-132 

CHAPTER  V:  LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES. 

Berenice;  Nitocris ;  Dynamis ;  Anaxandre      .....       133-152 

CHAPTER  VI :  A  GENERAL  CRITICISM. 

Du  Ryer's  ideas ;  sources  ;  change  from  romantic  to  classic  methods ; 
aesthetic  purpose  ;  morality  ;  choice  of  time  and  place,  and  treatment 
of  the  three  unities  ;  exposition,  nceud,  and  denouement;  acts  and 
scenes  ;  situations  ;  setting  and  local  color  ;  characters  ;  comic,  lyric, 
and  descriptive  passages ;  other  stylistic  qualities  ;  resemblance  to 
Corneille  ;  influence  ........  153-170 

APPENDIX  A:  Du  RYER'S  PLAYS 171-172 

APPENDIX  B  :  Du  RYER'S  TRANSLATIONS I73-I75 

INDEX    .  177-182 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  plate  used  as  a  frontispiece  for  this  volume  and  the  vignettes  on  the 
back  of  this  plate  and  on  pages  I  and  170  are  reproduced  from  the 
first  edition  of  Saul,  published  at  Paris  in  1642. 


PIERRE  DU    RYER 

DRAMATIST 


CHAPTER  I. 

LIFE. 

The  name  Du  Ryer1  occurs  a  number  of  times  in  seventeenth- 
century  records.  Andre  Du  Ryer,  a  native  of  Burgundy  and 
consul  in  Egypt,  is  known  for  his  translation  of  the  Koran  and 
for  other  contributions  to  Oriental  study. 2  Tallemant  des  R6aux 
mentions  "la  Du  Ryer"  in  the  sixth  volume  of  his  Historiettes. 
References  to  a  certain  Pierre  Du  Ryer,  seigneur  de  Tillemont, 
who  was  conseiller  and  maUre  d'hdtel  to  the  king  in  1639  and 
who  died  no  later  than  1645,  to  his  widow,  to  Magdelaine  and 
Jacque  Du  Ryer,  and  to  Claude  Du  Ryer,  "tresorier  general  des 
Ligues  Suisses  et  Grisons, "  are  preserved  in  the  Bibliotheque 
Nationale. 3  Isaac  Du  Ryer  was  a  lyric  poet  who  flourished  in 

1  It  is  usually  written  Du  Ryer  or  du  Ryer,  less  frequently  Duryer,  or  with  an  « 
in  place  of  the  y.  That  the  final  r  was  not  pronounced  is  shown  by  the  writing 
duriez,  used  about  1647  by  the  second  scribe  of  Mahelot's  Memoire  (MS.  fonds  fr. 
24330  in  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale,  p.  5).  It  is  true  that  at  this  time  z  was  occa- 
sionally written  for  r  (cf.  Rosset,  Les  Origines  de  la  prononciation  moderne,  Paris, 
1911,  p.  295),  but  the  scribe  in  question  shows  no  tendency  to  such  usage,  for  in  the 
rest  of  the  passage  he  represents  the  sound  of  r  by  r  fifty-four  times,  writes  z  in  Songes 
des  hommes  esveillez  to  show  that  a  preceding  e  is  acute,  and  nowhere  uses  z  as  a  substi- 
tute for  r.  Moreover,  the  name  Du  Ryer  rimes  with  acier,  mestier,  and  laurier  in 
Isaac  Du  Ryer's  Temps  perdu,  Paris,  1610,  30,  31;  with  laurier  in  the  introductory 
verses  published  with  Pierre  Du  Ryer's  A  rgenis  (Paris,  1631)  and  his  Traitt&dela 
Prouidence  de  Dieu  (Paris,  1634),  and  in  Loret's  Muse  historique  for  December  6, 
1659.  Although  these  rimes  tend  to  confirm  the  evidence  of  the  writing  in  Mahelot, 
they  would  not  alone  be  sufficient  to  prove  the  pronunciation,  for  it  is  not  certain 
that  all  common  nouns  in  -ier  had  at  this  time  lost  the  sound  of  their  final  consonant ; 
cf.  Thurot,  de  la  Prononciation  fran^aise,  Paris,  1883,  n,  157,  158. 

*  His  Rudimenta  grammatices  lingua  turcica  was  published  at  Paris  in  1630  and 
1633;  his  Gulistan  ou  I' empire  des  roses,  in  1634;  his  Alcoran,  in  1647;  his  Dictionnaire 
Turc-Latin  remained  in  manuscript. 

*Pilces  originales,  2482,  1045;  Cabinet  d' 'Hazier,  125;  cf.  also  Jal,  Dictionnaire 
critique,  Paris,  1867,  p.  1098.  The  only  evidence  that  the  dramatist  was  related  to 
any  of  these  persons  lies  in  the  fact  that  he  and  Claude  were  buried  in  the  same 
church. 


2  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

the  first  third  of  the  seventeenth  century.  The  fact  that  he 
was  the  father  of  the  dramatist  is  proved  by  the  following 
considerations. x 

A  sonnet  "sur  les  miseres  de  la  pauuret6  par  le  sieur  du  Ryer, 
le  pere"  was  published  in  the  Jardin  des  Muses  in  1640,  and, 
though  supposed  by  Livet,*  Fournier,3  and  Philipp4  to  have 
been  written  by  Pierre  Du  Ryer,  was  in  reality  the  work  of  Isaac, 
in  whose  Temps  perdu  it  had  already  appeared.5  It  follows 
that  an  editor  in  1640  believed  Isaac  to  be  the  father  of  some 
other  poet  named  Du  Ryer,  whose  existence  necessitated  the 
addition  of  "le  pere"  in  giving  the  authorship  of  the  poem. 
As  Isaac  and  Pierre  are  the  only  poets  known  to  have  been 
named  Du  Ryer,  this  is  good  evidence,  furnished  by  one  of  their 
contemporaries,  that  Isaac  was  the  father  of  Pierre.  In  the  next 
place,  an  introductory  poem,  signed  "Petrus  Du  Ryer,"  and 
headed  "Patri  suo, "  was  published  in  1624  with  an  edition  of 
Isaac's  Temps  perdu. 6  De  Beauchamps,  after  noting  this, 7  sug- 
gests that  "cette  remarque  peut  servir  a  faire  cormoitre  que  ce 
Pierre  fils  d' Isaac,  pourroit  6tre  celui  qui  etoit  de  I'acad6mie  fran- 
goise,  si  connu  par  ses  pieces  de  theatre  et  par  ses  traductions." 
It  may  be  added  that  Isaac  and  Pierre  were  both  Parisians  and 
royal  secretaries,  and  belonged  to  consecutive  generations;  that 
the  relationship  is  believed  by  the  fr£res  Parfaict  and  other  his- 
torians of  the  French  theater;  that  two  of  Pierre's  works,  Lisandre 
et  Caliste  and  the  Traitti  de  la  Prouidence  de  Dieu,  are  preceded  by 
complimentary  verses  signed  I.  D.,  the  signature  used  by  Isaac 
for  the  dedication  of  his  Heures  derobees. 

Isaac  Du  Ryer  is  known  chiefly  through  his  works.  He 
published  the  Temps  perdu*  in  1608,  1609,  1610,  and  1624;  the 
Vengeance  des  satyres,  pastorelle  auec  quelques  meslanges  du  mesme 
autheur  in  1614  and  1631;  the  Mariage  d'amour,  pastorelle,  in 
1621  and  1631;  the  Heures  derobees  in  1633.  The  pastorals9 

1  Philipp,  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  5,  would  prove  this  by  an  unsigned  statement 
written  by  hand  in  a  copy  of  Isaac  Du  Ryer's  Temps  perdu  in  the  Arsenal  Library. 

•  Histoire  de  /' Academic  franfaise,  Paris,  1858,  I,  301.     He  quotes  the  sonnet  in 
full,  as  do  his  two  followers.  *  Theatre  fran$ais,  n,  72.  *  Op.  cit.,  8. 

*  Page  36,  Sonnet  xi  in  the  edition  of  1609;  page  114,  Sonnet  xi  in  that  of  1610. 
6  The  poem  is  not  in  the  editions  of  1609  and  1610,  but  it  appears  in  the  edition 

of  1624,  a  copy  of  which  is  in  the  British  Museum. 

»  Recherches,  Paris,  1735,  II,  82. 

•Cf.  Lachevre,  Bibliotheque  des  Recueils  collectifs  de  Potsies,  Paris,  1903,  II,  276. 

»  For  further  criticism  see  Marsan,  La  Pastorale  dramatique  en  France,  Paris, 
1905,  299,  312,  313,  507-509- 


LIFE  3 

are  slight,  written  to  be  played  by  children,  as  the  author  states 
in  his  prologue  to  the  Mariage  d'amour.  Although  he  would 
have  us  believe  that  his  characters  speak  the  language  of  the 
people,  most  of  the  work  is  as  artificial  as  other  pastorals.  His 
lyrics  are  of  greater  worth  and  interest  us  more  particularly  by 
showing  something  of  Isaac's  nature  and  the  kind  of  life  he  led. 
He  was  a  courtier  as  well  as  poet,  secretaire  de  la  chambre  du 
roy,  and  secretary  to  the  grand  ecuyer,  Roger,  due  de  Bellegarde. 
When  he  lost  the  favor  of  this  nobleman,  he  was  employed  as 
clerk  at  the  customs-house  of  the  Saint-Paul  quay,  where  he  re- 
ceived only  ten  ecus  a  month.1  He  bore  his  poverty,  now  with 
bitterness,  now  with  humorous  fortitude.  Among  his  friends  were 
the  poets  Hodey2  and  Tristan  I'Hermite,  and  the  actress  Isabella 
Andreini,  whom  he  urges  to  stay  in  France,  for  "Paris  vaut  bien 
Italic."3  Alexandre  Hardy,  to  whom  he  writes  in  hostile  spirit, 
was  probably  an  acquaintance. 4  He  speaks  of  himself  as  an  old 
man  in  1 633, s  and  probably  died  not  long  after: 

"le  n'estois  pas  encore  en  1'Auril  de  mon  aage 
Qu'un  pen  de  naturel  me  mit  les  vers  en  main, 
Ayant  1'esprit  port£  tellement  a  1'ouurage 
Que  sur  quoy  que  ce  fust  ie  rimois  tout  soudain.  "s 

The  characteristics  of  the  improvisations  Isaac  mentions  here 
are  apparent  in  his  poems.  He  is  clever,  careless,  trivial.  He 
seldom  attempts  large  themes.  His  love  poems  are  conventional 
and  coarse ;  his  prayers  and  verses  on  death  move  us  little ;  his 
lines  to  Henri  IV,  Marie  de  Medicis,  Louis  XIII,  and  various 
nobles  show  that  he  was  a  professional  flatterer.  Yet  there  is 
a  sincere  note  in  his  outbursts  against  poverty  and  neglect,  a 
very  real  delight  in  life  and  friends  as  soon  as  fortune  smiles  at 
Vaugirard  or  Saint-Germain.  He  was  jovial,  witty,  bibulous, 
tender-hearted,  as  ready  to  advise  his  friends  as  he  was  slow  to 
set  them  a  difficult  example. 

His  influence  on  his  son  could  be  variously  exerted.  Several 
of  his  poems  show  interest  in  children ;  one,  to  his  niece  Franchise, 
a  nun  at  Longchamp,  real  affection.  He  was  probably  an  in- 

1  Cf.  Goujet,  Bibliotheque  franfoise,  Paris,  1751-1756,  xv,  276-286. 
1  For  Hodey  cf.  Lachevre,  Bibliothique  des  Recueils,  i,  206,  379. 
J  A  Isabelle  comedienne  in  the  Temps  perdu. 

4  Les  Heures  derobees,  29,  30;  cf.  Modern  Language  Notes,  June,  1909. 
*  Sonnet  to  Tristan  in  Les  Heures  derobees. 


4  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

dulgent  father,  who  introduced  his  son  at  court  as  well  as  to 
his  literary  friends  and  boon  companions.  He  may  have  given 
Pierre  an  early  taste  for  playwriting  and  verse-making,  for  a 
number  of  the  latter 's  lyrics  are  on  the  same  themes  as  his 
own,  and  Pierre's  first  recorded  production  was  a  Latin  poem  in 
his  father's  praise.  Isaac  probably  also  instilled  into  him  his 
religious  faith,  his  devotion  to  the  king  and  the  great  nobles, 
his  ability  to  bear  poverty,  his  esprit  gaulois.  The  dignity  and 
regularity  found  in  the  son's  work  may  be  due  in  part  to  the 
classical  training  that  his  father  must  have  encouraged.  He 
undoubtedly  provided  him  with  an  environment  that  early 
attracted  him  into  literature. 

Nothing  is  known  of  Isaac's  ancestors,  or  of  the  members  of 
his  family,  except  his  niece  Francoise  and  his  son  Pierre.  Niceron ' 
states  that  Pierre  came  of  good  stock,  which  some  called  noble. 
In  a  legal  document  of  1627,*  he  is  referred  to  as  "ayant  droict 
par  declaration  de  noble  homme."  The  notice  of  his  burial  calls 
him  an  escuyer.3  Moreover,  the  office  of  secretary  to  the  king 
is  known  to  have  carried  with  it  nobility  for  the  holder  and  his 
descendants. 4  We  may  therefore  conclude  that  Isaac  and  Pierre 
Du  Ryer  belonged  to  the  petty  aristocracy,  which  was  but 
slightly  removed  from  the  bourgeoisie. 

The  time  and  place  of  Pierre's  birth  are  uncertain.  That  he 
was  born  at  Paris  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  his  father 
lived  there,  and  that  he  was  himself  frequently  referred  to  as  a 
Parisian.  No  contemporary  gave  the  date  of  his  birth.  Writing 
in  1733,  Niceron  stated  that  he  was  born  in  1605,  and  de  Beau- 
champs,  the  freres  Parfaict,  Voltaire,5  Le"ris,  and  La  Vallidre 
agreed.  Jal3  found  no  document  referring  to  his  birth.  In  1694 
Mor6ri6  declared  that  he  died  November  6,  1658,  "age"  de  53 
ans, "  but  in  1732,  under  the  influence  of  Bayle,7  the  date  of  his 
death  is  changed  to  1656,  and  the  date  of  his  birth  moved  back  to 
1603.  In  order  to  make  Du  Ryer  old  enough  to  write  Aretaphile 
in  1618,  Fournier8  would  change  the  date  of  his  birth  to  1600. 

1  Memoires  pour  servir,  etc.,  Paris,  1733,  xxn,  342. 

Bibliotheque  Nationale,  Pieces  originates,  2482.  »  Jal,  Dictionnaire,  1098 

Guyot  et  Merlin,  Tra.Uk  des  droits,  f auctions,  etc.,  Paris,  1786-88,  iv,  289;  i,  598. 

J  (Euvres  (Moland's  edition),  Paris,  1885,  xiv,  70;  the  other  authors  in  their 
histories  of  the  French  theater. 

1  Le  grand  Dictionnaire  historique,  Amsterdam. 

» Dictionnaire  historique,  Rotterdam,  1697,  pp.  940,  941. 

1  Theatre  franfais  n,  68. 


LIFE  5 

Now  as  this  dating  for  Aretaphile  is  incorrect,  Fournier's 
argument  is  worthless,  but  his  conclusion  is  probably  sound. 
Pierre  Du  Ryer  will  be  shown  to  have  been  secretary  to  the  king 
as  early  as  February  18,  1621,  and  consequently  could  hardly 
have  been  born  later  than  1600.  This  evidence  is  strengthened 
by  the  fact  that  he  published  a  Latin  poem  in  1624,  and  that 
Vigneul-Marville1  towards  1653  described  him  as  being  in  his 
vieillesse.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  not  born  much  earlier 
than  1600,  for  his  first  publication  of  any  length,  made  in  1630, 
appears  to  be  a  work  of  his  youth,  from  the  immaturity  of  the 
style  and  structure,  from  the  fact  that  most  of  his  dramatic 
contemporaries  began  to  publish  before  they  were  thirty,  and 
that  it  would  be  strange  if  so  prolific  a  writer  as  Du  Ryer  were  an 
exception  in  this  matter.  1600  is,  then,  the  probable  date  of  his 
birth. 

Nothing  is  known  of  Pierre's  childhood  except  what  may  be 
gathered  from  his  later  life  and  his  father's  character.  He  was 
probably  brought  up  at  Paris,  learned  to  know  poverty  and  to 
bear  it  cheerfully,  to  respect  authority,  to  be  a  good  Catholic, 
to  take  interest  in  lyric  poetry  and  the  drama,  to  be  acceptable 
to  the  great,  both  as  secretary  and  as  literary  entertainer.  Ni- 
ceron2  says  that  he  studied  well,  but  gives  no  authority  for  the 
statement.  It  is  evident  from  his  subsequent  work  as  a  trans- 
lator that  he  had  good  training  in  Latin.  He  probably  studied 
law,  for  he  later  has  the  title  of  "aduocat  en  parlement.  "J  He 
must  also  have  had  the  equipment  required  by  his  position  as 
secretary  to  the  king,  which  meant,  according  to  the  rulings  of 
Charles  IX  and  Henri  III,  that  he  had  proved  satisfactorily  his 
"bonnes  vie,  mceurs,  religion,  conversation catholique,  suffisance  et 
capacite,"  and  that  he  exercised  no  "train  et  trafic  de  marchandise, 
banque,  ferme,  ou  autre  negotiation  vile  et  m£canique.  "4 

The  first  direct  evidence  concerning  his  life  relates  to  his 
position  as  secretary  to  the  king.  There  is  reason  to  believe 
that  his  father,  who  was  secretaire  de  la  chambre  du  roy  in  1614, 
ceded  this  office  to  him  not  later  than  February,  1621;  that 
shortly  thereafter  Pierre  gave  up  this  title  for  that  of  consetiler 

1  Melanges  d'histoire  et  de  literature,  Rotterdam,  1700,  I,  194. 
1  Memoires  pour  servir,  etc.,  xxir,  342. 

J  Cf.  Jal,  Dictionnaire,  1098,  and  the  privilege  to  Du  Ryer's  translation  of  Sal- 
vianus,  1633,  and  of  de  Thou,  1654. 

« Guyot  et  Merlin,  Traile  des  droits,  iv,  234,  seq. 


6  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

ct  secretaire  du  roy  et  de  ses  finances;  and  that  he  continued  to 
perform  the  duties  of  this  office  until  the  end  of  1633,  when  he 
sold  it  on  account  of  his  marriage  and  his  increased  literary 
activity.  Some  of  these  conclusions  are  more  certain  than  others. 
Their  truth  may  be  judged  from  the  following  facts. 

D'Olivet1  declares  that  Du  Ryer  "fut  pourvu  d'une  charge  de 
secretaire  du  Roi;  mais  ayant  fait  un  manage  d'inclination,  il 
revendit  cette  charge  en  1633."  This  biographer  is  followed  by 
Titon  du  Tillet,2  Niceron,3  de  Beauchamps,4  the  freres  Parfaict,s 
and  Goujet.6  The  statements  are  confirmed  by  the  facts  that 
Isaac  Du  Ryer  was  secretaire  de  la  chambre  du  roy  in  1614, 7  that 
the  secretaryship  could  be  resigned  in  favor  of  a  son, 8  that  Pierre 
was  subsequently  secretary  to  the  king's  brother,  the  due  de 
Venddme,  and  retained  the  title  of  conseiller  du  roy,  and  especially 
by  the  evidence  of  nine  receipts  preserved  in  the  Bibliotheque 
Nationale. 9 

The  first  of  these  receipts  runs  as  follows: 

"Je  Pierre  Du  Ryer,  secretaire  de  la  chambre  du  Roy  ayant 
droict  par  transport  de  Mr  Jehan  Le  quint  confesse  auoir  receu  de 
Mr  Flamin  Fanuche  conseiller  dudict  sieur  Recepueur  general  et 
payeur  des  rentes  constituees  sur  les  receptes  generalles  la  somme  de 
six  liures  cinq  sols  pour  le  quartier  de  Juillet  aoust  Septembre  de 
1'an  1604  a  cause  de  25  liures  tournois  de  rente  constituees  a  Batholemy 
Passart  le  10  Juillet  1570,  de  laquelle  somme  de  6  liures  5  sols  Je  me 
tiens  contant  et  bien  pay£  et  en  quitte  ledict  Sr  Fanuche  susdict  et 
tous  autres.  Tesmoing  mon  seing  ci  mis  a  Paris  le  18  jour  de  Feburier 
1621. 

"Du  RYER  P." 

1  Livet,  Histoire  de  I'Acadcmie  fran$aise,  I,  300. 

1  Le  Parnasse  franc, ois,  Paris,  1732,  p.  249. 

'  Memoires  pour  servir,  etc.,  xxn,  342.  *  Recherches,  il,  109. 

*  Histoire  du  theatre  franc.ois,  Paris,  1734,  seq.,  IV,  535. 

6  Bibliotheque,  xvi,  255.    These  writers  give  1626  as  the  date  of  his  becoming  secre- 
tary to  the  king,  which  is  shown  to  be  incorrect  by  the  receipts  mentioned  below. 
J  Cf.  the  title-page  of  his  Vengeance  des  Satyres,  Paris,  1614. 
'  Guyot  et  Merlin,  Traite  des  droits,  iv,  302. 

•  Pieces  originates,  2482  and  2598.    The  only  other  Pierre  Du  Ryer  known  to 
have  lived  at  this  time  was  "seigneur  de  Tillemont,  conseiller  et  maistre  d'hostel 
ordinaire  du  Roy,"  whose  widow  signed  two  documents  in  1639  and  1645,  preserved 
in  Pieces  originates,  2482.   As  Tillemont  was  dead  in  1639,  he  can  not  be  the  dramatist 
we  are  studying.    As  there  is  no  evidence  to  show  that  he  was  secretary  to  the  king, 
and  as  there  is  considerable  proof  that  the  dramatist  held  this  office,  it  seems  clear 
that  the  receipts  which  refer  to  Pierre  Du  Ryer  have  to  do  with  the  son  of  Isaac,  for 
it  ia  extremely  improbable  that  there  were  two  men  called  Pierre  Du  Ryer  simul- 
taneously secretary  to  the  king. 


LIFE  7 

The  next  four  receipts  are  much  like  this  one  and  are  dated 
February  20,  June  22,  July  19  and  22  of  the  same  year,  1621. 
It  is  worthy  of  note  that  in  all  of  them  Du  Ryer  is  called  secretaire 
de  la  chambre  du  roy,  exactly  the  title  that  his  father  had  in 
1614.  As  Isaac  Du  Ryer  is  not  given  this  title  in  his  Mariage 
d' amour,  published  in  1621,  nor  in  his  Heures  derobees  of  1633,  it 
seems  probable  that  he  resigned  the  position  in  favor  of  his  son 
as  early  as  February,  1621,  though  it  is  possible  that  he  continued 
to  keep  it  after  his  son's  appointment.  But  Pierre  must  soon 
have  changed  his  position  for  that  of  conseiller  et  secretaire  du  Roy 
et  de  ses  finances,  for  the  four  remaining  receipts,  dated  June  9, 
1627,  July  i  and  November  6,  1628,  and  September  24,  1633,  give 
him  the  latter  title.  From  these  receipts  it  is  learned  that  he 
was  also  "porteur  des  lettres  de  prouision  de  1'office  de  comp- 
trolleur  et  garde  des  grandes  et  petites  mesures  au  grenier  a  sel 
de  Baieux, "  and  that  he  received  eight  hundred  livres  in  payment 
for  his  services  from  the  beginning  of  October,  1625,  through 
September,  1627.  In  1623  he  bought  from  the  government  the 
right  to  sell  ten  "offices  de  sergens  des  aydes  et  tailles  de  1'eslec- 
tion  d'Arques,  generalite  de  Rouen, "  for  which  he  was  reimbursed 
to  the  extent  of  1909  livres  when  these  offices  were  abolished. 
The  date  of  the  last  receipt  shows  that  he  held  his  office  till 
September  24,  1633,  but  he  must  have  sold  it  soon  after,  for 
d' Olivet  and  later  biographers  set  1633  as  the  date  of  this  sale. 
He  became  secretary  to  the  Duke  of  Vend6me  the  following  year, 
and  no  mention  of  him  as  secretary  to  the  king  subsequently 
occurs.  We  learn  also  from  one  of  the  receipts  that  in  1627  he 
was  described  as  "noble  homme  Pierre  du  Rier  Sieur  de  Paracy 
conseiller  et  secretaire  du  Roy  et  de  ses  finances  demeurant  a 
Paris  rue  des  Francs  bourgeois  paroisse  sainct  geruais.  "x 

It  seems,  then,  that  after  studying  the  classics,  and  perhaps 
law,  Pierre  succeeded  his  father  in  his  position  as  secretaire  de  la 
chambre  du  roy,  having  to  "servir  sa  majeste  dans  ses  depe'ches,"2 
and  that  later  he  became  "conseiller  et  secretaire  du  roy  et  de 
ses  finances,"  with  the  duty  of  drawing  up  and  signing  "les 
lettres  qui  s'expedient  a  la  grande  Chancellerie,  "3  an  office  where 
the  official  letters  were  sealed  with  the  great  seal.  He  made 

1  The  fact  that  he  was  buried  in  Saint-Gervais  helps  to  confirm  this  statement. 

2  Guyot  et  Merlin,  Traite  des  droits,  I,  598. 
» Ibidem,  IV,  234. 


8  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

at  least  one  financial  venture,  was  acknowledged  a  member  of 
the  nobility,  and  lived  at  Paris,  rue  des  Francs  Bourgeois. 

That  he  was  not  too  busy  to  be  interested  in  literature  is 
shown  by  his  publishing,  according  to  a  pedantic  fashion  of  the 
time,  three  short  Latin  poems,  as  an  introduction  to  the  edition 
of  his  father's  Temps  perdu  that  appeared  in  1624.  The  verses 
are  precious  and  bombastic.  Filial  affection  and  the  conventions 
of  introductory  poems  furnish  their  only  justification.  They  run 

as  follows: 

Patri  suo. 

Quis  mihi  mendaci  narrabit  carmine  vates, 

Inuictas  victi  temporis  esse  manus? 

Cum  tempus  solitis  vincat  tua  musa  sagitis, 

Et  vinctum  Aonio  cogat  adesse  libro. 

Sic  penetras,  6  Musa  potens,  venientia  secla, 

Nam  te,  deuicto  tempore,  quid  retinet? 

Distichon  eidem. 

Qui  colitis  tempus,  vestros  reuocetis  honores, 
Nam  victum  tempus  Musa  parentis  habet. 

Aliud. 

Temporis  amissi  nomen  tua J  musa  repellat 
Deuicti  meritd  nomen  habere  potest. 

PETRUS  DU  RYER. 

Du  Ryer  continued  to  write  occasional  verse  through  this  first 
period  of  his  life.  Only  forty  poems  remain,  besides  his  compli- 
mentary lines  to  contemporary  dramatists.  Three  were  published 
at  Paris  in  1629,  in  a  volume  of  only  thirteen  pages,  entitled 
Dialogue  de  la  Digue  et  de  la  Rochelle3;  twenty- two  in  i63O,3  with 
his  Argenis  et  Poliarque;  sixteen  with  his  Lisandre  et  Caliste  in 
1632.  Although  many  of  his  subjects  resemble  those  treated 
by  his  father,  there  is  no  evidence  of  direct  imitation.  Like 
Isaac  he  appears  strongly  monarchical  and  Catholic,  a  good 
friend,  fond  of  wine,  a  lover  whose  morality  troubles  him  little. 
The  picture  of  Du  Ryer  as  the  frugal,  hard-working  husband  and 
author  does  not  fit  several  of  his  early  poems.  He  appears  to 

1  Tuu  in  the  original. 

1  This  work  has  been  overlooked  by  all  of  Du  Ryer's  biographers.  Its  mention 
here  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  catalogue  of  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale  has  at  last 
reached  Du  Ryer's  name. 

» One  of  these  is  a  reprint  of  the  sonnet  at  the  end  of  the  Dialogue. 


LIFE  9 

have  passed  through  a  somewhat  dissipated  youth  before  his  mar- 
riage, though  possessing  neither  wealth  nor  beauty,  according  to 
the  poem  in  which  he  longs  for  two  thousand  ecus  in  order  to  win 
his  mistress,  who  would  then  be  indifferent  neither  to  his  carriage 
nor  to  his  countenance,  although  they  are  "sans  grace."1 

The  Dialogue  de  la  Digue  contains  a  Prosopopee  de  la  Digue 
au  Roy  in  sonnet  form,  the  Dialogue  proper,  consisting  of  twenty- 
two  stanzas  delivered  alternately  by  the  Digue  and  La  Rochelle, 
and  another  sonnet  entitled  Prosopopee  de  la  Rochelle  aux  mutins 
du  Royaume.  The  sonnets  rejoice  in  the  capture  of  the  city  and 
advise  other  rebels  to  surrender  as  she  has  done.  In  the  principal 
poem,  the  Digue  boasts  of  her  loyalty  to  the  king  and  the  services 
she  has  rendered  in  the  capture  of  La  Rochelle,  described  as 
'Thorreur  de  la  France  et  1'espoir  des  Enfers. "  In  reply,  the 
city  reproaches  and  warns  the  Digue,  laments  her  losses,  and 
praises  Louis.  The  poem  is  a  panegyric  in  honor  of  the  king 
and  the  cardinal  for  their  recent  capture  of  La  Rochelle,  starved 
into  surrender  by  the  erection  of  the  celebrated  dike.  No  serious 
effort  is  made  to  describe  the  appearance  of  the  captured  city, 
or  to  interpret  the  actual  sentiments  of  its  inhabitants. 

Other  poems  connected  with  the  religious  wars  are  found 
in  the  second  collection.  In  Neptune  a  la  Rochelle,  the  god  tells 
how  vain  it  is  to  help  the  city  against  the  king  of  France.  An 
ode  rejoices  in  the  defeat  of  the  rebels  and  the  return  of  peace; 
an  epigram  praises  a  "feu  d'artifice  brusle  deuant  le  Louvre," 
apparently  in  celebration  of  a  victory;  and  a  sonnet  describes 
the  king's  greatness. 

In  the  third  collection  lines  are  addressed  to  the  queen-mother 
on  the  capture  of  Privas  and  the  general  victory  of  her  party, 
Richelieu  is  praised,  and  the  Sultan  is  described  as  alarmed  lest 
the  king  should  invade  the  "campagnes  de  I'ldumee."  Finally, 
an  echo  of  the  war  is  found  in  a  poem  on  the  death  of  the  baron 
de  Valence,  addressed  to  the  mareschal  de  la  Chastre, 2  whom  Du 
Ryer  seeks  to  comfort  for  the  loss  of  their  friend.  A  Cornelian 
line  is  worthy  of  notice: 

"Les  appas  immortels  des  ames  genereuses 
Ne  craignent  point  le  sort." 

1  Third  collection,  pp.  238,  239. 

1  To  him  Du  Ryer  also  addressed  an  ode  and  dedicated  Argents  et  Poliarque  and 
A  rgenis. 


jo  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

A  larger  number  of  these  poems  have  to  do  with  love,  a  senti- 
ment at  times  polite,  at  others  coarse,  never  passionate  or  spir- 
itualized. The  lines  written  to  Daphnide,  Syluie,  and  Amarante, 
the  heroines  of  Du  Ryer's  second  collection,  are  precious  and  unin- 
spired. He  is  more  earnest  in  the  third,  where  he  addresses  Calliste 
and  Olinde.  The  former,  who  may  owe  her  name  to  his  Lisandre 
et  Caliste,  delights  him  by  responding  to  his  passion,  or  saddens 
him  by  her  absence.  The  latter  seeks  a  rich  husband  and  will 
have  none  of  Du  Ryer,  marries,  and  is  reproached  for  yielding 
to  her  husband  embraces  that  belong  to  the  poet,  for 

"L'honneur  n'est  rien  qu'vne  chimere, 
Chacun  le  peint  4  sa  f agon ; 
Pour  moy  ie  le  peins  en  garcon, 
Qui  s'enfuit  libertin  loin  des  bras  de  sa  mere 
Et  rit  de  sa  lecon. " 

Du  Ryer's  poems  on  nature  are  exercises  in  polite  writing. 
Even  when  he  shows  observation,  his  style  is  too  abstract  to 
attempt  a  picture,  except,  perhaps,  in  his  description  of  the 
country  "par  le  haut  Viuares": 

"Quelques  raues  sont  la  moisson, 
La  plus  riche  que  Ton  y  cueille, 
Les  logis  y  sont  de  facon 
Qu'vn  toict  fait  de  genet  y  couure  vn  lict  de  fueille. " 

Fanaticism  marks  the  Stances  a  I'Eglise,  Le  Religieux  a  ceux  du 
monde,  and  the  poems  against  the  Huguenots.  Du  Ryer  has  no 
doubt  about  a  future  of  fire  and  torture  for  those  who  fail  to 
follow  the  Church's  teachings,  and  he  prefers  to  earthly  glory 
the  peace  of  retirement  from  the  world.  The  last  idea  is  more 
eloquently  expressed  in  his  elegiac  Stances  a  Damon  contre  la 
vanitt  du  temps: 

"Tout  tombe  sous  sa  dent  meurtriere, 
Homere  et  Virgile  sont  morts, 
Et  leurs  escripts  comme  leurs  corps, 
Yront  vn  iour  dessous  la  biere : 
L'homme  n'estant  point  immortel, 
Ne  scauroit  faire  rien  de  tel.  .  . 

Viuons  loin  de  ces  soins  estranges 
Les  plus  aises  que  nous  pourrons, 
Que  si  tandis  que  nous  viurons 
L'on  nous  donne  quelques  louanges, 
louissons  alors  de  ce  bien, 
Car  apres  nous  n'en  sentons  rien. " 


LIFE  1 1 

Despite  these  counsels  of  moderation  and  contentment,  Du  Ryer 
evidently  longs  for  fame,  and  is  working  to  win  it.  He  confides 
to  a  friend  that,  when  he  fails,  he  has  as  a  remedy  "le  verre 
et  la  bouteille." 

On  the  whole,  the  poems  show  few  of  the  higher  lyric  qualities. 
Du  Ryer  is  concerned  chiefly  with  monarchical  notions,  gallantry, 
or  purely  physical  love.  There  is  little  of  the  dignity  and  elevation 
attained  by  his  best  dramatic  work.  His  feeling  is  not  intense. 
He  shows  small  imagination  or  power  of  concrete  description. 
Le  soleil,  filets  d'or,  les  fleurs,  les  rockers  are  the  objects  he  uses 
for  comparisons.  An  eclipse  furnishes  his  most  elaborate  simile. * 
His  lines  are  neither  harmonious  nor  free  from  chevilles.  He  is 
best  in  his  elegiac  passages,  and  never  attempts  a  song.  The 
value  of  the  poems  lies  in  the  light  they  throw  on  sides  of  Du 
Ryer's  character  that  are  not  shown  by  his  objective  dramas. 
Their  service  to  him  may  have  been  practical  in  advancing  his 
interests  at  court,  and  must  have  been  developing,  as  they  gave 
him  a  fairly  wide  range*  of  subject,  tone,  and  meter  for  the 
practice  of  his  talent. 

In  this  connection  should  be  mentioned  the  conventional 
poems  which  Du  Ryer  wrote  to  his  friends  in  flattery  of  their 
dramatic  work.3  They  occur  before  Agimee  (1629)  by  S.  B.4; 
Scudery's  Ligdamon  et  Lidias  (1631)  and  Trompeur  puny  (1635); 
Mareschal's  Genereuse  Allemande  (1630)  and  Sceur  valeureuse 
(1634);  la  Charnays's  Bocages  (1632), s  Auvray's  Madonte  (1632), 
Rayssiguier's  Amours  d'Astree  et  de  Celadon  (1630),  and  Cor- 
neille's  Veuve  (1634).  The  last  poem,  which  illustrates  this  parlor 
poetry  satisfactorily,  runs  as  follows : 

"Ta  veuve  s'est  assez  cached, 
Ne  crains  point  de  la  mettre  au  jour; 
Tu  sais  bien  qu'elle  est  recherche"e 
Par  les  mieux  sense's  de  la  cour. 
De"J£l  des  plus  grands  de  la  France, 

1  Second  collection,  p.  122. 

*  Goujet,  Bibliotheque,  xvi,  253,  254,  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  he  writes  odes, 
sonnets,  elegies,  epigrams,  and  stances.    He  holds  that  "plusieurs  ne  manquent  ni 
de  force,  ni  de  ge'nie,  ni  de  style  poetique,"  and  singles  out  the  Stances  a  VEglise  as 
worthy  of  special  note. 

»With  these  must   be  included  his  reply  to  Poncet's  complimentary  verses, 
which  is  published  before  his  Argents. 

*  Is  this  Simon  Bassin,  who  wrote  complimentary  verses  to  Du  Ryer? 
s  Cf.  Marsan,  La  Pastorale  dramatique,  407. 


12  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Dont  elle  est  1'heureuse  espeVance, 
Les  coeurs  lui  sont  assujettis, 
Et  leur  amour  est  une  preuve 
Qu'une  si  glorieuse  Veuve 
Ne  peut  manquer  de  bons  partis. " ' 

It  is  in  this  period  that  Du  Ryer's  dramatic  work  begins.  With 
his  father's  example  and  encouragement  he  soon  gained  an  impor- 
tant place  in  the  new  generation  of  dramatists,  who  were  beginning 
to  substitute  for  Hardy'  s  type  of  play  a  form  that  possessed 
greater  clarity  of  style,  regularity  of  plot,  and  care  in  the  study 
of  character.  A  detailed  criticism  of  the  tragi-comedies  which 
formed  Du  Ryer's  contribution  to  this  movement  will  be  given 
in  the  next  chapter.  At  present  I  note  only  the  evidence  they 
give  concerning  his  noble  and  literary  friends.  Argenis  et  Poli- 
arque  is  dedicated  to  la  Chastre,  governor  of  Berri  and  mareschal 
de  France;  A rgenis,  to  the  latter's  wife,  Louise  Henriette ;  Lisandre 
et  Caliste,  to  the  duchesse  de  Longueville,  daughter  of  Charles  de 
Bourbon-Soissons  and  first  wife  of  Henri  II,  due  de  Longueville, 
whose  second  wife  was  the  famous  duchess  of  the  Fronde.  Among 
his  friends  who  write  to  him  in  terms  of  extravagant  flattery  is 
especially  to  be  noted  Guillaume  Colletet,2  who  ends  his  sonnet 
with: 

"Apollon  t'a  si  bien  ses  secrets  decouuerts 
Que  si  1'histoire  vn  iour  dit  du  bien  de  nostre  age 
Ce  sera  seulement  a  cause  de  tes  vers. " 

The  dramatists,  Pichou,  Rayssiguier,  and  Auvray,  also  write  to 
Du  Ryer  as  their  friend.  To  these  may  be  added  L.  Longuet, 
Parisien;  Louis  Maudit,3  author  of  poems  called  Narcisse,  Isa- 
belle,  les  Deuotions,  and  friend  of  Corneille,  Hodey,  and  Colletet ; 
I.  Villeneuve;  Anceaume;  Simon  Bassin,  "conseiller  et  aumonier 
de  leurs  majest6s, "  who  was  chaplain  to  Anne  d'Autriche  and 
known  by  his  sermons,  odes,  and  a  tragi-comedy ;  Voille  de 
Bruyeres,  who  wrote  complimentary  verses  to  Corneille  as  well ; 
Bonnet,  a  nephew  of  Pierre  Motin;  E.  Poncet,  who  published 
in  1630  a  sonnet  on  the  death  of  Scevole  de  Sainte-Marthe. 4 
Besides  these  poets  who  wrote  verses  to  him,  Du  Ryer  had  for 

1  Grands  Ecrivains,  Corneille,  I,  383. 

The  Catalogue  de  Soleinne,  Paris,  1843,  i,  no.  1006,  mentions  a  copy  of  Du  Ryer's 
Alcionte,  with  "envoi  autographe  signed  pour  mon  cher  amy  monsieur  Colletet." 

Cf .  Goujet,  Btbliotheque,  xv,  301 , 302 ;  Lachevre,  Bibliothtque  des  Recueils,  11, 369. 
4  Lachevre,  op.  cit.,  i,  125,  275. 


LIFE  13 

friends  Vaugelas, 1  Menage,  Vigneul-Marville,  perhaps  Pellisson- 
Fontanier.  * 

Du  Ryer  probably  received  no  more  substantial  aid  from  the 
noblemen  to  whom  he  dedicated  his  plays  than  he  did  from 
the  friends  who  lavished  compliments  upon  him,  for,  according 
to  his  biographers,  he  was  unable  to  support  his  family  after 
his  marriage  and  was  accordingly  obliged  to  sell  his  position  as 
secretary  to  the  king.  This  sale  was  made  no  earlier  than  the 
fall  of  1633.  Not  long  before,  it  seems,  he  had  married  Genevi&ve 
Fournier,  a  bourgeoise  whose  virtues  were  those  of  an  excellent 
housekeeper  and  admiring,  if  ignorant,  wife.  She  bore  him  at 
least  four  children :  Lucrece,  buried  at  Saint-Gervais,  June  4,  1638 ; 
Pierre,  buried  at  Sainte-Marguerite,  May  25,  1650;  Elisabeth, 
who  died  in  1651;  Marthe,  who  was  buried  September  6,  1652. 3 
She  died  not  long  after  this  last  date.  Her  praise  is  sounded  by 
her  husband  in  a  letter  that  will  be  given  below. 4 

This  marriage  with  its  attendant  circumstances  opened  a 
new  period  in  Du  Ryer's  life.  He  sold  his  secretaryship  at 
the  end  of  1633,  and  soon  after  became  secretary  to  the  king's 
half-brother,  C6sar,  due  de  Vend6me.  The  date  of  this  event 
is  not  given  by  his  biographers,  but  it  may  be  determined  from 
Du  Ryer's  published  books.  The  privilege  to  print  Alcimedon, 
dated  November  18,  1634,  is  the  first  document  to  mention  the 
author  as  secretary  to  the  duke.  Cleomedon,  played  at  Carnival, 
1634,  is  said  by  the  author  to  have  been  written  in  Venddme's 
house.  Du  Ryer  must,  therefore,  have  entered  his  service  no  later 
than  the  first  weeks  of  1634,  and  no  earlier  than  the  preceding  Sep- 
tember, date  of  his  last  preserved  receipt  as  secretary  to  the  king. 
His  engagement  as  secretary  continued  at  least  until  September  30, 
1640,  for  the  privilege  to  his  translation  of  Cicero's  Tusculanes 
mentions  him  as  still  holding  this  position,  but  not  much  longer 
than  this,  as  Vend6me,  accused  of  trying  to  poison  Richelieu,  fled 
to  England  the  following  year.  There  is  no  evidence  that  Du  Ryer 
went  back  to  his  service  after  the  latter's  return  to  France. 

According  to  the  statements  made  in  his  dedications,  his 
relations  with  the  duke  were  excellent.  He  dedicated  Alcimedon, 

1  So  Du  Ryer  declares  in  his  preface  to  Quinte-Curce. 

'  I  have  in  my  possession  a  copy  of  the  first  edition  of  his  Histoire  de  I' Academic 
FranQoise,  which  he  sent  to  Du  Ryer  with  the  inscription,  "Pour  Monsieur  du  Ryer 
Par  son  tres  humble  serviteur  Pellisson  fontanier." 

» Jal,  Dictionnaire,  1098.  «P.  18. 


14  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

the  Vendanges  de  Suresne,  and  Cleomedon  to  Venddme  himself; 
Lucrece  to  his  daughter;  Clarigene  to  his  son,  the  due  de  Mer- 
cceur;  his  translation  of  Antonio,  Prior  of  Crato,  to  his  wife. 
With  the  exception  of  Alcionee  and  a  few  minor  translations, 
these  were  the  only  works  he  published  while  secretary  to  Ven- 
d6me.  In  his  dedications  he  speaks  of  the  duke's  constant 
kindness  to  him,  and  of  the  favor  with  which  he  received  his 
plays.  He  refers  to  "  1'approbation  que  mes  ouurages  regoivent 
de  vostre  Grandeur,"  to  Alcimedon,  "qui  receut  il  ny  a  pas 
long  temps  vn  si  glorieux  accueil  de  vostre  grandeur, "  to  Cleome- 
don, which  the  duke  knows,  "puisqu'il  est  n6  en  vostre  maison 
et  vous  1'auez  tousiours  si  fauorablement  esleue  depuis  sa  nais- 
sance. "  He  mentions  also  his  preparing  his  edition  of  the 
Vendanges  during  "ces  fascheuses  iournees  ou  la  fievre  me  rendoit 
inutile  au  service  de  vostre  grandeur." 

Towards  the  end  of  the  period,  however,  their  relations  may 
have  been  less  cordial,  for  we  find  Du  Ryer  dedicating  his  Alcionee 
to  the  duchesse  d'Aiguillon,  niece  of  Richelieu,  whom,  the  fol- 
lowing year,  Vend6me  was  accused  of  trying  to  murder.  Pos- 
sibly Du  Ryer  saw  the  tide  turning  against  his  protector  and 
followed  the  example  of  many  literary  contemporaries  by  seeking 
the  favor  of  the  Cardinal.  But  the  cause  may  have  been  merely 
what  he  writes  the  duchess  in  his  dedication:  "Lors  que  son 
Eminence  me  fit  1'honneur  de  me  commander  de  luy  porter  cet 
ouurage,  et  de  vouloir  encore  que  ie  luy  en  fisse  la  lecture  apres 
1'auoir  veu  representer  tant  de  fois,  ie  cms  qu'elle  autorisoit  mon 
entreprise. "  Whatever  his  motives  may  have  been,  Du  Ryer 
did  not  long  enjoy  the  protection  of  either  Venddme  or  Richelieu. 
The  former's  exile  in  1641  and  the  latter's  death  the  following 
year  left  him  without  a  special  patron. 

The  first  record  of  his  being  an  aduocat  en  Parlement  is  found 
at  the  end  of  the  year  1633,  in  the  privilege  to  his  translation  of 
Salvianus.  This  work,  including  its  dedication  to  the  abb6  de 
Tillieres,  shows  Du  Ryer  as  the  devout  Catholic  of  his  lyrics.  It 
is  with  the  publication  of  this  translation  and  with  that  of 
Alcimedon  that  he  enters  into  relations  with  Antoine  de  Somma- 
ville,  who,  alone  or  associated  with  Courbe,  published  for  him 
nearly  all  of  his  subsequent  work,  and  consequently  had  much 
influence  upon  his  life  by  inducing  him  to  give  up  dramatic 
composition  for  translation. 


LIFE  15 

Between  1633  and  1640  Du  Ryer  passes  from  the  time  of  his 
irregular  tragi-comedies  into  a  period  of  experimentation  in  vari- 
ous dramatic  forms  and  of  development  towards  a  simpler  and 
profounder  conception  of  his  art.  He  improves  his  tragi-comedies, 
tries  the  comedy  and  the  pastoral,  and  brings  out  his  first  two 
tragedies,  by  which  he  becomes  a  leader  in  the  movement 
towards  the  creation  of  the  French  classic  drama.  He  enters 
the  period  an  apprentice  and  leaves  it  an  acknowledged  master. 
He  gives  up  lyric  poetry,  except  for  an  occasional  stanza  in  a 
play  or  lines  for  a  friend's  work,  and  makes  the  drama  his  chief 
literary  interest. 

But  this  period  also  marks  the  beginning  of  his  translations, 
which  gradually  grew  in  importance  till  they  entirely  crowded 
out  his  dramatic  work.  It  was  not  his  marriage  alone  that 
drove  him  to  such  excessive  translation,  as  his  biographers  would 
have  us  believe.  As  long  as  he  was  secretary  to  Venddme,  he 
was  able  to  support  his  family  and  also  to  write  plays.  But  the 
loss  of  this  patron  and  the  failure  to  obtain  a  new  one  left  him  in 
a  difficulty  from  which  he  rescued  himself  only  by  the  use  of  his 
pen.  In  1640,  foreseeing  the  difficulties  into  which  Vend6me 
was  about  to  fall,  he  turned,  not  only  to  Richelieu's  niece,  but 
to  the  publishers,  and  projected  translations  that  would  enable 
him  to  support  his  family  for  some  years  to  come.  Before  this 
date  he  had  translated  only  a  few  things,  but  they  represented 
the  three  kinds  of  authors  that  he  was  to  translate  subsequently 
with  such  unfortunate  success,  writers  of  modern  Latin,  of 
classic  Greek,  and  of  classic  Latin. 

After  1640  Du  Ryer  appears  to  have  had  no  patron  and  to 
have  supported  his  family  entirely  by  his  plays  and  translations. 
His  Sceuole  was  dedicated  by  the  publisher  during  his  own 
absence  from  Paris.  His  translation  of  Livy  was  dedicated  to 
Christina  of  Sweden,  of  Sulpicius  to  a  certain  Monsieur  Du  Mas. 
None  of  his  other  works  published  after  1640,  either  plays  or 
translations,  were  dedicated  to  definite  individuals.  For  a  while 
he  continued  to  live  at  Paris.  He  may  have  held  a  salon  there, 
for  Tallemant1  speaks  of  the  actor  Bellerose  as  taking  part  in 
"certaines  conversations  spirituelles  chez  Giry  et  chez  du  Ryer." 
He  was  on  friendly  terms  with  Menage  and  other  men  of  letters. 
His  reputation  as  a  dramatist  and  translator  brought  him  into 

1  Historiettes,  Paris,  1860,  vn,  173. 


j6  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

the  Academy  on  November  21,  1646,  under  peculiarly  flattering 
circumstances.  "Monsieur  Faret  estant  mort,  on  proposa  d'vn 
coste"  le  mesme  Monsieur  Corneille,  et  de  1'autre  Monsieur  du 
Ryer,  et  ce  dernier  fut  prefere.  Or  le  Registre  en  c6t  endroit, 
fait  mention  de  la  resolution  que  1'Academie  avoit  prise  de  pre- 
ferer  toujours  entre  deux  personnes,  dont  1'vne  et  1'autre  auroient 
les  qualitez  necessaires,  celle  qui  feroit  sa  residence  £  Paris. " *  The 
citation  shows  that  Du  Ryer  was  at  this  time  considered  Corneille's 
equal  by  the  members  of  the  Academy.  He  succeeded  one  of  the 
founders  of  that  institution  and  became  its  nineteenth  member. 

About  this  time  Du  Ryer  went  to  live  in  the  village  of  Picpus. 
Indeed  he  may  have  been  living  there  at  the  time  of  his  election,  * 
for  the  village,  now  within  the  Fortifications,  was  then  doubtless 
near  enough  to  enable  him  to  meet  the  Academy's  requirement 
of  residence  at  Paris.  Antoine  de  Sommaville's  reference  in 
1647  to  his  expected  "retour  de  la  Campagne"3  may  indicate 
that  he  had  gone  there  to  live.  He  was  certainly  residing  there 
in  1650,  for  in  the  notice  of  his  son's  burial  at  Sainte-Marguerite, 
he  is  mentioned  as  inhabiting  Picpus,  "vis-a-vis  la  Gerbe  d'or.  "4 
Other  burial  notices  show  that  he  was  living  there  in  1651  and 
in  1652,  but  that  after  his  second  marriage  he  returned  to  Paris, 
and  lived  in  the  rue  des  Tournelles  in  the  Marais.  He  probably 
kept  up  an  establishment  near  Picpus,  for  his  own  burial  notice 
declares  that  he  died  "en  sa  maison  au  village  de  la  Rapee,  proche 
de  la  basse-court  de  la  seigneurie  de  Bercy,  paroisse  Saint-Paul."4 

Poverty  is  assigned  as  the  cause  of  his  living  in  the  suburbs. 
M6nage  states  that  "pour  eViter  la  depense,  il  demeuroit  hors  de 
Paris,  encore  plus  loin  que  les  Picquepuces,  ou  il  logeoit  avec  une 
femme  et  des  enfans.  J'allay  le  voir  une  fois  en  compagnie. 
II  nous  regala  de  cerises  cueillies  dans  un  petit  jardin  qu'il  avoit. "  * 
Vigneul-Marville6  confirms  this  account  at  greater  length: 

"M.  du  Ryer  traduisoit  les  Auteurs  &  la  hate,  pour  tirer  prompte- 
ment  du  Libraire  Sommaville  une  mediocre  recompense,  qui  1'aidoit 

1  Htstoire  de  I' Academic  Franfoise,  Paris,  1653,  P-  362. 

•  Or  even  as  early  as  1643,  if,  as  Stiefel  suggests,  Du  Ryer's  removal  to  Picpus  is 
referred  to  by  Mairet  when  he  speaks  of  his  retiring  from  the  "occupations  de  la 
Scene. "     Cf.  Mairet's  preface  to  Sidonie,  1643,  and  Zeitschriftfiirfranzosische  Sprache 
und  Literatur,  xvi,  43. 

» Dedication  of  Sceuole. 

•  Jal,  Dittionnaire,  1098. 

«  Menagiana,  Amsterdam,  1693,  P-  366. 

•  Melanges  d'histoire  et  de  literature,  Rotterdam,  1700,  i,  193,  194. 


LIFE  17 

a  subsister  avec  sa  pauvre  famille  dans  un  petit  village  aupre"s  de  Paris. 
Un  beau  jour  d'Ete  nous  allames  plusieurs  ensemble  lui  rendre  visite : 
II  nous  recut  avec  joie,  nous  parla  de  ses  desseins,  et  nous  fit  voir  ses 
ouvrages;  Mais  ce  qui  nous  toucha,  c'est  que  ne  craignant  pas  de  nous 
laisser  voir  sa  pauvrete",  il  voulut  nous  donner  la  collation.  Nous  nous 
rangeames  dessous  un  arbre,  on  etendit  une  nape  sur  1'herbe,  sa  femme 
aporta  du  lait,  et  lui  des  cerises,  de  1'eau  fraiche,  et  du  pain  bis.  Quoi- 
que  ce  re"gal  nous  semblat  tres-bon,  nous  ne  pumes  dire  adieu  a  cet 
excellent  homme  sans  pleurer,  de  le  voir  si  maltraitd  de  la  fortune,  sur 
tout  dans  sa  vieillesse,  et  acable"  d'infirmitez. " 

These  indications  of  Du  Ryer's  poverty  are  confirmed  by 
Richelet,  who  gives  as  an  example  in  his  dictionary,1  "Feu  du 
Rier  travailloit  pour  du  pain."  Menage  believes  that  he  "fami 
magis  quam  famae  inserviebat. " 2  Jal3  states  that  he  paid  only 
thirty-seven  sous  for  the  burial  of  his  son  in  1650,  nineteen  sous 
six  deniers  for  the  burial  of  his  daughter  Elisabeth  in  1651,  and 
twenty  sous  for  that  of  a  second  daughter,  Marthe,  in  1652.  This 
is  probably  the  time  of  Vigneul-Marville's  visit,  for,  as  the  latter 
was  then  about  twenty,  the  visit  could  hardly  have  been  much 
earlier,  and  as  Du  Ryer's  wife  died  not  long  after,  it  could  not 
have  been  much  later. 

A  delightful  account  of  his  family  life  during  this  period,  his 
fine  acceptance  of  adversity,  and  his  wife's  admiring  devotion 
is  given  in  a  letter,  published  in  Essaisde  Lettres  familieres,*  which 
was  written  by  him  to  an  unknown  friend.  It  runs  as  follows: 

"Quoi,  vous  louez  ma  version  de  Seneque!  A  d'autres,  vous  ne 
m'y  ratraperez  pas:  Scachez,  Monsieur,  que  je  1'ai  faite  en  six  mois,  et 
qu'il  faudroit  six  ans  pour  la  faire  comme  il  faut.  Ma  Traduction  est 
une  Traduction  de  Villeloin.  La  seule  difference  qu'il  y  a  entre  lui 
et  moi,  c'est  qu'il  croit  faire  bien,  et  ne  scauroit  mieux  faire:  Mais 
pour  moi,  je  connois  mes  fautes,  et  pourrois  faire  mieux.  Oui  j'ai 
cette  vanite*  de  croire  que  je  pourrois  e'tre  d'Ablancourt,  ou  Vaugelas, 
et  je  suis  devenu  Marolles.  O  fortune,  fortune!  c'est  un  effet  de  ta 
rigueur.  Tu  m'as  force",  malgre  moi,  de  te  sacrifier  ma  reputation; 
mais  tu  ne  me  forceras  jamais  de  te  sacrifier  mon  honneur,  et  je  ne 
veux  point  tromper  mon  Ami.  Viola,  M.  la  franchise  que  je  vous 
dois,  pour  la  bonte*  que  vous  avez  de  me  prater  quelquefois  de  1 'argent : 
Je  vous  envoye  les  vingt  pistoles  que  vous  m'avez  pre'te'es  en  dernier 
lieu.  Les  Libraires  me  sont  venus  voir  a  n6tre  village,  et  m'ont 

1  Geneva,  1680,  under  the  word  pain. 
*  Menagiana,  Amsterdam,  1693,  p.  366. 
» Dictionnaire,  1098. 

<  Paris,  1690,  pp.  16-20.  Brunet  states  that  the  collection  of  letters  was  published 
by  Cassagne,  not  by  Furetiere. 


jg  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

apportd  deux  cens  iScus.  Je  les  ay  aussi-t6t  donnez  a  ndtre  Me"nagere, 
qui  est  ravie,  et  me  rend  heureux  dans  mon  malheur.  Elle  croit  mes 
Traductions  aussi  parfaites,  que  vous  faites  semblant  de  les  croire; 
et  comme  elle  est  te"moin  de  la  rapidite*  avec  laquelle  je  les  fais,  elle  ne 
scauroit  comprendre  qu'un  mortel  soit  capable  de  venir  si  aise*ment  a 
bout  de  tant  de  merveilles,  et  s'imagine  qu'il  y  a  quelque  chose  en 
moi,  qui  surpasse  la  Nature  humaine.  Vous  avez  oui  parler  du  pauvre 
B.  II  avoit  £pouse"  une  Demoiselle  Angloise,  qui  lui  donnoit  des  coups 
de  baton,  quand  il  ne  travailloit  pas  assez  a  son  gre\  La  mienne,  grace 
a  Dieu,  n'est  ni  Angloise,  ni  Demoiselle;  c'est  une  bonne  femme,  qui 
m'aime  avec  une  tendresse,  et  m'honore  avec  un  respect  incroyable. 
J'en  regois  plus  de  service  que  je  n'en  tirerois  de  six  domestiques. 
Elle  tient  ma  petite  sale  et  mon  alcove  propres  et  luisantes  comme  deux 
miroirs;  elle  fait  mon  lit  d'une  maniere  que  je  ne  pense  pas  qu'il  y 
ait  de  Prince  qui  soit  mieux  couched  et  sur  toutes  choses  elle  ne  manque 
jamais  de  me  donner  une  bonne  soupe.  Je  ne  sgaurois  compren- 
dre a  mon  tour,  qu'avec  si  peu  de  finance  on  puisse  trouver  le  moyen 
de  faire  si  grand'chere.  De  sorte  qu'en  de"pit  de  la  Fortune,  nous 
passons  n6tre  vie  a  nous  admirer  1'un  et  1'autre.  Elle  admire  le  genie 
que  j'ai  pour  la  Traduction,  et  j'admire  le  genie  qu'elle  a  pour  le  me"- 
nage.  Au  reste  je  vous  dois  dire  que  Madame  Bilaine  est  venue  avec 
mon  bon  ami  Courbe'  m'apporter  les  deux  cens  e"cus  qu'ils  me  devoient 
de  reste  pour  ma  Version  des  Oraisons  de  Ciceron,  que  je  vous  envoierai 
dans  peu  de  jours.  Cette  fine  Marchande  de  Livres  e"toit  a  robe 
de'trousse'e  et  me  baisa  de  si  bonne  grace,  qu'on  voit  bien  que 
l'e*cole  du  Palais  n'est  moins  gueres  bonne  que  celle  de  la  Cour, 
pour  apprendre  a  ses  Ecolieres  la  belle  maniere  de  saluer  les  gens,  que 
la  galanterie  de  ndtre  Nation  a  introduite  dans  le  commerce  de  la  vie. 
En  un  mot,  Madame  Bilaine  m'a  gagne*  le  cceur;  et  m'a  offert  de 
m'avancer  sur  mon  Tite-Live,  qui  s'avance  fort  une  somme  de  mille 
francs.  A  1'instant  ma  m^nagere  ouvrit  les  oreilles,  et  me  vint  dire 
tout  bas,  prenez-la  au  mot,  mon  cher  man ;  Je  la  cms,  et  sur  le  champ  les 
mille  livres  furent  compte'es  en  beaux  Louis  d'or  et  d'argent  au  pauvre 
du  Ryer,  qui  de  crainte  de  vous  ennuyer  ne  vous  en  dira  pas  davantage, 
et  tachera  settlement  de  mieux  faire  a  1'avenir  qu'il  n'a  fait  par  le 
passe*.  Je  puis  vous  donner  cette  parole:  maintenant  que  je  me  vois, 
vous  paye",  plus  de  quatre  cent  £cus  devant  moi ;  qui  depuis  que  je  me 
connois  ne  me  suis  jamais  trouve*  si  riche ;  ou  pour  mieux  dire,  moins 
pauvre.  Adieu,  mon  cher  Monsieur,  ne  perdez  pas  cette  Lettre,  que 
je  vous  prie  de  faire  imprimer  pour  ma  justification,  a  la  fin,  ou  a  la 
t6te  du  premier  de  mes  Livres,  qui  se  re'imprimera.  Je  suis  a  mon 
ordinaire,  c'est  a  dire  avec  beaucoup  d'affection  et  de  reconnoissance, 
"Monsieur,  V6tre  tres-humble  serviteur, 

"DURYER." 

This  letter  was  written  about  1652,  for  that  is  the  year  in  which 
Du  Ryer  must  have  been  finishing  his  Livy  after  the  completion 


LIFE  19 

of  his  Seneca  and  most  of  Cicero's  orations.  It  is  valuable  for 
the  account  of  his  life  at  Picpus,  his  poverty,  his  domestic  happi- 
ness, his  friendly  and  lucrative  relations  with  Courbe  and  this 
interesting  Madame  Bilaine,  "a  robe  detroussee  qui  me  baisa  de 
si  bonne  grace."  It  shows,  too,  his  refusal  of  undeserved  praise, 
his  confidence  in  his  real  ability  to  do  good  work,  his  distress  at 
the  necessity  that  compelled  him  to  translate  hurriedly.  His 
quiet  humor,  his  delight  in  the  simple  comforts  that  his  wife  gave 
him,  his  respect  for  her  business  ability,  and  her  belief  in  his 
genius  give  the  letter  a  human  interest  that  is  absent  from  most 
documents  concerning  him. 

Fournier,1  who  was  the  first  to  quote  this  letter  in  treating 
Du  Ryer's  life,  uses  the  account  of  his  friendly  relations  with 
the  publishers  to  disprove  Baillet's  statement  that  Du  Ryer 
sold  his  translations  for  thirty  sous  a  sheet,  and  his  verses  at  four 
francs  a  hundred  when  large,  forty  sous  when  small.  He  declares 
that  Baillet  is  purposely  slandering  Du  Ryer.  I  do  not  see  how 
this  letter  contradicts  Baillet's  statements.  It  is  not  a  question 
of  verses,  but  of  translations.  Now  the  completed  translation 
of  Livy  contains  about  seventeen  hundred  pages,  which,  at  thirty 
sous  a  page,  would  bring  in,  according  to  Baillet,  two  thousand 
five  hundred  and  fifty  francs,  of  which  one  thousand  might  easily 
be  paid  in  advance.  There  is,  therefore,  nothing  wrong  in  the 
statement,  so  far  as  the  translations  are  concerned.  But  there 
is,  on  the  other  hand,  no  proof  that  Du  Ryer  was  actually  paid 
at  this  rate.  The  origin  of  the  error  can  be  readily  shown. 

In  his  Nouuelle  allegorique,*  Fureti&re  describes  the  confusion 
among  the  adherents  of  rhetoric  after  the  death  of  Richelieu,  some 
of  whom  "se  mirent  en  sendee  chez  les  Comediens,  les  Imagers 
et  les  Libraires  .  .  .  ou  tel  fut  contraint  par  la  necessite  de 
faire  des  Traductions  a  trente  sous  ou  a  vn  ecu  la  feuille;  tel  des 
vers  a  quatre  francs  le  cent  quand  ils  etoient  grands,  et  a  quarante 
sous  quand  ils  etoient  petits. "  There  is  no  mention  of  Du  Ryer 
whatsoever.  Moreover,  Furetidre  omits  his  name  from  the  list 
of  translators  that  he  gives  earlier  in  the  book,  although  he  in- 
cludes in  it  d'Ablancourt,  Giry,  Vaugelas,  Charpentier,  Vigenere, 
and  Baudouin.  Baillet, 3  following  Furetiere,  speaks  of  Baudouin, 

1  The&trefranqais,  u,  73. 

2  Paris,  1658,  p.  133. 

J  Jugemens  des  Sfavans,  Paris,  1685,  1686,  tome  I,  p.  446. 


20  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Du  Ryer,  and  others  as  mercenary  translators,  who  lost  their 
reputation,  some  by  translating  at  "30  sols  ou  a  un  ecu  la  feuille," 
others  by  writing  verses  "a  quatre  francs  le  cent,  etc. "  Clement 
and  the  Abbe  de  la  Porte'  combine  these  two  statements  and 
declare  that  Du  Ryer  received  "un  ecu  par  feuille"  for  transla- 
tions, four  francs  a  hundred  for  large  verses,  forty  sous  a  hundred 
for  small.  Thus  started,  this  statement,  entirely  without  founda- 
tion in  fact,  has  found  general  acceptance  except  by  Fournier. 
It  has  even  been  incorporated  in  a  recent  edition  of  Rotrou. 2 

To  this  period  belongs  a  letter  written  by  Du  Ryer  to  explain 
a  passage  in  a  letter  of  Sulpicius  to  Cicero.  Although  noted  in 
the  catalogue  of  the  Arsenal  library,3  it  has  been  overlooked  by 
all  of  Du  Ryer's  biographers.  It  is  neither  signed  nor  dated, 
but  it  is  addressed  to  "Mons.  Conrart  conseiller  et  secretaire  du 
roy, "  and  is  assigned  to  Du  Ryer  by  another  hand  than  that 
which  wrote  the  letter.  It  accompanies  two  letters  on  the  same 
subject  by  d'Espagne  and  Patru,  the  former  of  which  is  marked 
"London,  June  20,  1653."  Although  its  authorship  is  not  cer- 
tainly proved,  there  seems  little  reason  to  doubt  that  the  letter 
was  written  by  Du  Ryer.  It  runs  as  follows : 

"  Je  scay  bien  qu'il  se  trouue  quelques  personnes  parmi  les  anciens 
et  les  modernes  qui  ne  sont  pas  du  sentiment  du  traducteur  de  la 
lettre  de  Sulpicius  a  Ciceron.  Et  a  la  verite*  il  semble  qu'il  y  ayt  de 
1 'ironic  dans  ces  paroles  Licitum  est  tibi  credo,  et  qu'on  pourroit  ex- 
pliquer  en  cette  maniere  le  passage  dont  il  s'agit, — Qu'est  ce  qui  est 
maintenant  capable  de  luy  faire  aymer  la  Vie?  Quelles  esperances  et 
guelles  satisfactions  d'esprit?  Celles  la  peut-estre  de  passer  le  reste  de 
ses  jours  auec  un  mary  de  la  premiere  noblesse  comme  si  vous  eussiez 
pu  choisir  un  gendre  parmi  la  Jeunesse  d'aujourdhuy  qui  eust  este  digne 
de  vous,  et  d,  qui  vous  eussiez  pu  confier  vos  enfans  et  vostre  personne, 
etc.  Car  on  dit  que  les  guerres  ciuiles  auoient  entierement  corrompu 
la  jeunesse  de  ce  temps  la. 

"On  pourroit  done  donner  cette  explication  a  ces  paroles  Licitum 
est  tibi  credo;  mais  je  n'aurois  garde  pour  cela  de  condamner  1'autre,  et 
mesme  je  ne  scay  si  apres  auoir  consider^  ce  passage  aussi  exactement 
que  le  traducteur  qui  paroist  personne  d'esprit  et  de  jugement  je  ne 
me  laisserois  point  aller  a  son  opinion.  En  effet  est-il  vraysemblable 
que  toute  la  Jeunesse  de  Rome  eust  este"  si  debauchee  qu'il  n'y  eust  eu 
personne  de  reste  en  qui  Ton  pust  trouuer  du  merite  et  de  la  vertu? 
LaPestene  depeuple  pas  les  villes  de  telle  sorte  qu'il  n'y  demeure 

1  Anecdotes  dramatiques,  Paris,  1775,  HI,  176. 
1  H6mon,  Rotrou.     The6.tr e  choisi,  p.  12. 
»  MS.  5419,  pp.  65-80. 


LIFE  21 

quelques  habitans  qui  ne  s'en  soient  point  ressentis ;  les  embrassemens 
les  plus  furieux  ne  deuorent  pas  routes  choses ;  et  la  corruption  du  vice 
n'a  jamais  este"  si  puissante  que  quelques  esprits  genereux  n'ayent  eu 
la  force  de  s'en  exempter.  Sulpicius  a  done  pu  dire  a  Ciceron  comme 
1'explique  le  traducteur,  Je  croy  en  effet  qu'une  personne  de  vostre 
condition  auroit  pu  choisir  un  gendre  parmi  la  jeunesse  de  Rome  entre 
les  mains  duquel  vous  eussiez  pu  mettre  surement  vos  interests,  vos  enfans 
et  vostre  personne. 

"  C'est  une  espece  de  consolation  qui  ne  manque  pas  d'exemples  que 
de  dire  quelque  chose  a  un  afflige  qui  le  diuertisse  de  sa  douleur  par 
la  louange  qu'on  luy  donne.  Ainsi  il  semble  que  Sulpicius  qui  conois- 
soit  1'humeur  de  Ciceron  a  qui  les  louanges  ne  deplaisoient  pas,  luy 
veuille  dire  comme  a  dessein  de  le  louer,  Qu'a  la  verite  un  homme  de  sa 
condition  et  de  sa  vertu  auroit  pu  choisir  un  gendre  parmi  la  jeunesse 
de  Rome  entre  les  mains  duquel  il  auroit  abandonne'  surement  ses 
enfans  et  sa  personne.  Mais  aussi  tost  pour  le  consoler  de  ne  pouuoir 
jouir  de  ce  bien  dont  la  mort  de  sa  fille  luy  auoit  oste"  1'esperence  ne 
diroit-on  pas  que  Sulpicius  continue  son  discours  de  la  sorte.  Mais 
quand  vostre  fille  auroit  eu  des  enfans  d'un  mary  si  vertueux  elle  n1  auroit 
pas  eu  la  satisfaction  de  les  voir  dans  les  grandes  charges,  et  dans  la  jouis- 
sance  des  biens  que  leur  Pere  leur  auroit  laisses  puisqu'il  n'y  a  plus  de 
biens  ny  dlhonneurs  a  esperer  dans  la  cheute  de  la  republique  et  que  tons  ces 
auantages  leur  auroient  este  rauis  auant  qu'ils  leur  eussent  este  donnes. 

"Outre  cela  il  falloit  que  Sulpicius  comme  excellent  consolateur 
representast  a  Ciceron  tout  ce  qui  pourroit  arriver  de  fauorable  a  sa 
fille,  affin  de  luy  faire  voir  ensuite  qu'elle  n'en  pouuoit  attendre  aucuns 
auantages;  et  par  consequent  qu'ayant  moins  de  subjet  de  s'affliger 
de  sa  mort,  il  y  auoit  plus  de  se  consoler.  II  estoit  done  necessaire  de 
luy  dire  qu'il  pouuoit  choisir  un  gendre,  honneste  homme  et  recom- 
mendable;  et  pour  le  consoler  de  n'auoir  pas  eu  ce  bonheur,  il  falloit 
aussi  luy  remonstrer  comme  a  fait  Sulpicius,  qu'il  ne  pouuoit  naistre 
qu'un  mal  de  ce  bien,  puisque  les  enfans  que  sa  fille  eust  mis  au  monde 
ne  pouuoient  estre  que  malheureux  dans  la  mine  de  la  republique,  ce 
qui  eust  este  a  la  mere  une  nouuelle  cause  de  douleur  et  d'affliction. 
De  sorte  qu'il  luy  a  este"  plus  auantageux,  et  que  c'est  a  Ciceron  un 
plus  grand  subjet  de  se  consoler  qu'elle  soit  morte  de  bonne  heure,  que 
d'auoir  eu  un  mary  de  qui  elle  eust  eu  des  enfans  dont  les  maux  et  les 
infortunes  1'eussent  rendue  plus  malheureuse.  Voyla  ce  me  semble  ce 
que  veut  dire  Sulpicius. 

"Mais  apres  tout  quand  1'on  considerera  ces  paroles  qui  rem  a 
Parente  traditam,  etc.,  ne  pourra-on  pas  soustenir  que  ce  mot  parents 
se  rapporte  a  generum  diligere,  qui  est  a  deux  lignes  au  dessus?  Or 
d'autant  que  Sulpicius  parle  des  biens  que  le  mari  de  Tullia  eust 
laisses  a  ses  enfans,  il  n'est  pas  a  croire  que  ce  mot  parente  se  rapportant 
vraysemblablement  a  generum  il  ayt  voulu  parler  d'un  gendre  debauche 
puisque  ce  n'est  pas  la  coustume  des  Peres  debauches  de  laisser  du 
bien  a  leurs  enfans. 


22  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

"Jo  conclurois  de  ce  discours  que  le  Traducteur  est  fonde"  sur  la 
raison,  et  qu'on  luy  a  declare"  la  guerre  plustost  pour  exercer  son  esprit 
et  pour  luy  donner  subjet  de  vaincre  auec  plus  d'honneur  et  de  gloire, 
que  pour  luy  faire  changer  d'opinion." 

This  prolix  and  ingenious  defense  of  a  brother  translator  shows 
in  Du  Ryer  a  desire  for  fairness  and  a  considerable  knowledge  of 
the  subject  under  discussion,  but  not  the  accuracy  of  the  thorough 
scholar.  The  question  raised  is  whether  Sulpicius,  in  his  letter 
of  consolation  to  Cicero, '  is  speaking  ironically  or  not  when  he 
declares  that  the  latter  could  have  found  a  worthy  husband  for 
his  daughter  in  the  younger  generation.  Modern  scholarship 
favors  the  ironical  interpretation.  Du  Ryer  tries  to  show  that 
the  other  interpretation  could  also  stand,  but  he  fails  to  do  away 
with  the  linguistic  difficulty  caused  by  the  author's  use  of  credo. 

Little  more  is  known  of  Du  Ryer's  life.  Marmontel  makes 
the  statement  that  "on  dit  que  sa  femme  lui  donna  tous  les  jours 
sa  tache  a  remplir,  et  tant  de  pages  a  traduire.  "3  Not  long  after 
the  death  of  this  wife,  the  excellent  housekeeper,  he  married  again, 
and  went  to  live  in  the  Marais,  rue  des  Tournelles.  His  second 
wife,  Marie  de  Bonnaire,  is  thought  by  Jal3  to  have  brought  him 
enough  money  to  enable  him  to  spend  his  last  years  in  comfort, 
but  her  assistance  did  not  relieve  him  from  his  translating,  which 
he  continued  up  to  his  death.  Their  daughter,  Marie-Aymee,  was 
baptized  March  26,  1655,  being  held  by  Aymee  Du  Ryer,  probably 
a  daughter  by  the  first  marriage.  Finally,  d'Olivet4  declares  that 
Du  Ryer  obtained  "sur  la  fin  de  ses  jours  un  brevet  d'historio- 
graphe  de  France  avec  une  pension  sur  le  sceau."  This  state- 
ment is  confirmed  by  the  title-page  of  Du  Ryer's  translations  of 
Herodotus  and  de  Thou,  printed  in  1658  and  1659,  respectively. 

There  is  abundant  evidence  to  show  that  Du  Ryer  died  in 
1658.  Jal3  found  the  record  of  his  burial  at  Saint-Gervais  dated 
November  26  of  that  year.  Baillet's  statement5  that  he  died 
in  1656  or  1657  led  Bayle  and  some  others  into  error,6  but  most 
biographers  give  the  year  correctly.  They  assume,  however,  that 

1  Cicero  ad  Fam.,  iv,  5.          '  Chefs  d'ceuvre  dramatiques,  preface  to  Scevole,  p.  iv. 

*  Dictionnairc,  1098.  *  Cf.  Livet,  Histoire  de  I'Academie  franchise,  I,  301. 

tJugemcns  des  Sfavans,  Paris,  1685,  1686,  tome  iv,  part  iv,  p.  274. 

•Among  these,  note  especially  an  edition  of  Pellisson's  Histoire  de  I'Academie 
Franfoise,  published  in  1672,  p.  612;  the  Recueil  des  Harangues  prononcees  par 
Messieurs  de  FA cademie  franc, oise  dans  lews  receptions,  Paris,  1698,  p.  54;  the  Re- 
gistres  de  I'Academie  fran^aise,  Paris,  1906,  iv,  19.  The  mistake  about  the  time  of 
Du  Ryer's  death  leads  to  a  corresponding  error  as  to  when  Jean  d'Estrees  succeeded 
him  in  the  Academy. 


LIFE  23 

the  date  of  his  burial  coincided  with  that  of  his  death,  and  misread 
the  day  in  the  church  register,  so  that  the  date  commonly  given  has 
been  November  6,  1658. x  The  fr&res  Parfaict2  proved  that  this 
date  was  wrong  by  calling  attention  to  a  notice  of  Du  Ryer's 
death  in  Loret's  Muze  historique  for  October  5th.  They  made  no 
attempt  to  explain  the  November  dating,  which  Fournier  accepted 
as  true ;  nor  did  Livet  and  Philipp  explain  it,  though  the  latter,  at 
least,  knows  Jal. 

Now  the  simple  explanation  is  that  Du  Ryer  died  before 
October  5  "en  sa  maison  au  village  de  la  Rap6e,  proche  de  la 
basse-court  de  la  seigneurie  de  Bercy,  paroisse  Saint-Paul,"3  but 
that  he  was  not  "apporte  en  cette  eglise  [Saint-Gervais],  lieu 
de  sa  sepulture, "  till  November  26.  The  exact  date  of  his  death 
remains  unknown.  As  the  number  of  the  Muze  historique  pre- 
ceding the  one  which  contains  the  death-notice  is  dated  Sep- 
tember 28,  it  seems  probable  that  he  died  between  this  date 
and  October  5.  In  confirmation  of  this  may  be  cited  the  edi- 
tions of  Du  Ryer's  translations  of  Freinsheim  and  of  de  Thou, 
which  appeared  in  1659  and  refer  to  "feu  Monsieur  Du  Ryer"; 
and  the  second  volume  of  his  (Euvres  de  Seneque,  printed  October 
14,  1658,  containing  a  prefatory  note  from  the  publisher,  in  which 
he  mourns  the  sudden  death  of  Du  Ryer,  which  had  occurred 
"ces  iours  passez"  and  had  not  allowed  him  to  see  "1'impression 
acheuee,  comme  il  1'auoit  conduit  a  sa  perfection  sur  le  papier." 
Finally,  it  should  be  noticed  that  the  publication  of  the  Histoires 
d'Herodote  was  finished  on  September  23,  1658,  and  that  with  it 
appeared  a  dedicatory  epistle  to  Foucquet  from  the  publisher, 
in  which  he  speaks  of  "feu  Monsieur  Du  Ryer."  This  seems 
at  first  to  show  that  Du  Ryer  died  before  September  23,  but 
as  the  Epistre  does  not  occur  in  the  copy  of  the  work  in  the 
Mazarine,  and  is  printed  on  a  separate  leaf  in  the  copies  at  the 
Arsenal  and  at  the  Bibliothe'que  Nationale,  it  appears  to  have 
been  added  after  the  rest  of  the  work  was  printed,  and  to  indicate 
that  Du  Ryer  died,  not  before,  but  after  September  23.  The 
preponderance  of  the  evidence,  then,  shows  that  he  died  in  the  last 
week  of  September,  or  the  first  week  of  October,  1658,  and  was 
buried  at  Saint-Gervais  on  the  26th  of  the  next  month. 

'The  mistake  seems  to  occur  first  in  Moreii,  Dictionnaire,  Amsterdam,  1694. 
Romuald  in  his  Ephemerides,  Paris,  1662,  n,  474,  gives  November  21. 
•  Histoire  du  thedtre  frangois,  iv,  537. 
J  Jal,  Dictionnaire,  1098. 


24  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

In  this  last  period  of  his  life  Du  Ryer  published  eight  tragedies 
and  tragi-comedies,  which  show  originality  in  several  important 
respects  and  include  most  of  his  best  work.  But  after  1648 
his  dramas  deteriorated  as  the  number  of  his  translations  in- 
creased, and  he  soon  devoted  himself  exclusively  to  the  more 
prosaic  and  remunerative  genre.  Before  considering  the  value  of 
these  translations  and  their  effect  upon  his  plays,  it  is  well  to  pay 
some  attention  to  the  fame  his  labors  brought  him. 

Du  Ryer  was  regarded  by  his  contemporaries  as  one  of  the  three 
or  four  leading  dramatists  of  his  time.  Little  value,  it  is  true, 
is  attached  to  the  flattering  verses  that  precede  certain  of  his 
works,  or  to  Loret's  panegyric  in  which  he  asks  the  Academy, 

"Oft  trouverez-vous  un  Confrere, 
Qui  par  ses  me'rites  divers 
Qui  par  sa  Froze  et  par  ses  Vers, 
Par  sa  douceur  incomparable, 
Par  sa  vertu,  presque,  adorable, 
Puisse  re"parer,  aujourd'huy, 
La  perte  que  Ton  fait  en  luy, 
Et  remplir,  dignement  la  place 
Qu'il  possddoit  sur  le  Parnasse? 
Rare  Autheur,  dont  j'aimay  toujours, 
Les  hauts  Traitez,  les  hauts  Discours, 
Les  Traductions,  sans  e"gales, 
Les  belles  Pie'ces  Te'atrales, 
Et,  bref,  tant  de  divins  Ecrits 
Dont  tu  ravissois  nos  Esprits. " l 

But  of  some  importance  is  the  testimony  of  Mairet,  who  refers  to 
Rotrou,  Scudery,  Corneille,  and  Du  Ryer  as  if  he  considers  them 
his  leading  dramatic  contemporaries2;  that  of  La  Pineliere3  and 
the  abbe  Brillon4  are  to  much  the  same  effect;  Sorel  declares 
that,  "  II  vint  vn  grand  nombre  de  Poetes  pour  les  Pieces  Comiques 
et  Tragiques,  de  sorte  qu'on  ne  manquoit  point  de  diuertissement. 
Messieurs  Tristan,  Scudery,  Rotrou  et  du  Rier,  s'eleuerent  par- 
dessus  les  autres,  et  en  mesme  temps  vint  M.  Corneille  dont 
la  reputation  a  tousiours  este  en  augmentant."5  Francois  Colle- 

1  La  Muze  historique,  edited  by  Ch.-L.  Livet,  Paris,  1877,  n,  537,  538;  cf.  also 
m,  137. 

1  Epistre  dcdicatoire,  published  in  1636  with  his  Due  d'Ossonne.  Cf.  also  his 
Sidonie,  quoted  on  page  16,  and  Livet,  Histoire  de  I' Academic  frangaise,  n,  181. 

1  Le  Parnasse,  Paris,  1635,  60-62. 

« Notice  biographique  sur  Jean  Rotrou,  written  about  1698,  published  at  Chartres, 
1885,  pp.  16,  17. 

5  Bibliotheque  Franqoise,  Paris,  1664,  p.  183. 


LIFE  25 

tet  began  his  biography. x  Individual  works  were  praised  by 
d'Aubignac,  Scudery,  Saint-Evremond,  and  Menage.  Baillet, 2  on 
the  other  hand,  declared  in  1685  that  most  of  Du  Ryer's  works 
were  forgotten,  that  he  had  "du  talent  pour  la  Poesie,  mais  il 
devoit  parottre  sur  le  Theatre  en  un  autre  temps  que  Corneille 
pour  n'en  £tre  point  efface^  comme  la  pluspart  des  autres. "  It 
should  be  noticed  that  Baillet3  has  not  a  much  more  flattering 
opinion  of  Rotrou,  who  in  the  critic's  time  was  represented  by 
Venceslas  alone,  just  as  Du  Ryer  was  by  Sceuole  alone.  These 
two  plays,  with  Tristan's  Marianne,  were,  according  to  the  Re- 
pertoire des  comedies  fran$oises, 4  the  only  tragedies  by  Corneille's 
early  contemporaries  that  were  still  played  in  1685.  Marmontel, 
in  his  Chefs  d'oeuvre  dramatiques, s  published  the  two  plays  with 
Mairet's  Sophonisbe  as  the  best  representatives  of  their  time, 
Corneille's  works  excepted. 

In  the  eighteenth  century  Du  Ryer  is  placed  by  Titon  du 
Tillet  among  the  poets  of  his  Parnassefrangais.  Extracts  from  his 
works  are  published  in  the  Bibliotheque  poetique  of  1745  along  with 
the  poems  of  Marot,  Saint-Gelais,  Du  Bellay,  Regnier,  Malherbe, 
Rotrou,  and  Tristan.  He  is  criticized  at  greatest  length  by 
Clement  and  La  Porte, 6  who  speak  of  his  work  as  follows : 

"C'est  toujours  un  dialogue  raisonne",  fort  et  nerveux,  des  Sen- 
tences souvent  exprime'es  vivement  et  avec  precision,  une  intrigue  bien 
me'nage'e  et  conduite  avec  art;  j'en  excepte  cependant  VArghiis.  II 
tire  ordinairement  de  tous  ces  sujets  tout  ce  qu'on  en  peut  tirer ;  mais 
il  est  rarement  heureux  dans  leur  choix  .  .  .  On  ne  peut  refuser  £, 
cet  Auteur  de  la  force  et  quelquefois  du  sublime  dans  les  ide"es,  de 
I'e'nergie  dans  1'expression,  et  un  grand  fond  de  raisonnement.  Ses 
vers  n'offrent  pas  seulement  des  mots  pompeux  et  des  bagatelles  har- 
monieuses ;  mais  ils  donnent  beaucoup  £  penser  et  renf erment  un  grand 
sens.  II  faut  avouer  ne'anmoins  qu'il  n'a  pu  s'empe'cher  de  payer  le 
tribut  au  mauvais  gout  de  son  siecle.  Jusques  dans  les  plus  beaux 
morceaux,  on  trouve  des  jeux  de  mots  pitoyables,  des  antitheses 
pueriles  et  affecte'es.  On  peut  aussi  accuser  la  fortune,  qui  ne  ltd 
permettoit  pas  toujours  d'employer  le  temps  ne*cessaire  £  la  perfection 
de  ses  ouvrages.  Oblige*  de  travailler  pour  vivre,  il  fit  de  mauvaises 
Pieces  de  Theatre,  comme  de  mauvaises  traductions." 

1  Cf.  Vies  commences  par  Francois  Colletet  Fils  de  Guittaume,  Bibliotheque 
Nationale,  MS.  fr.  nouv.  acq.  3074,  p.  309,  where  the  work  is  listed.  It  was  de- 
stroyed with  other  lives  of  poets  in  1871. 

3  Jugemens  des  S$avans,  Paris,  1685,  1686,  tome  IV,  part  iv,  p.  275. 

*  Ibidem,  252,  and  He"mon,  Rotrou,  39. 

*  MS.  in  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale,  anc.  fonds  fr.  2509. 

s  Paris,  1773.     The  collection  went  no  further  than  this  first  volume. 
6  Anecdotes  dramatiques,  Paris,  1775,  in,  177. 


26  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

This  last  idea  had  been  expressed  by  df Olivet, *  whose  brief 
estimate  of  Du  Ryer  was  generally  accepted,  if  we  can  judge  by 
the  frequency  with  which  it  was  quoted.  After  stating  that  Du 
Ryer  was  obliged  to  write  for  his  living,  he  remarked,  "De  1& 
vient  que  ses  ouvrages  sont  eloignes  de  la  perfection  ou  Ton  sent 
qu'il  etoit  capable  de  les  porter.  II  avoit  un  style  coulant  et 
pur,  6gale  facilite  pour  les  vers  et  pour  la  prose.  II  ne  manquoit 
que  de  loisir. " 

The  popularity  of  his  work  with  the  general  public  is  shown  by 
the  cordial  reception  his  plays  received  from  the  start,  and  espe- 
cially by  the  unusual  success  of  Alcionee  and  Sceuole.  All  of  his 
plays  must  have  been  represented,  as  the  early  ones  are  in  Mahe- 
lot's  register  and  there  are  references  to  the  performance  of  most 
of  the  others.  The  anonymous  introduction  to  the  manuscripts 
of  Aretaphile  and  Clitophon  states  that  they  were  received  "avec 
un  aplaudissement  universel  du  peuple  et  de  la  Cour;  et  particu- 
lierement  Aretaphile  que  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans  apelloit  sa  piece." 
Du  Ryer  refers  in  his  dedications  to  the  applause  won  by  Alcime- 
don  and  Saul,  to  the  frequent  representations  of  Alcionee,  to  the 
"estime  qu'un  peu  de  bonne  fortune  m'a  acquise. "  In  the  in- 
troduction to  Berenice  he  declares  that  he  will  not  write  another 
work  in  prose,  for  he  prefers  to  remain  "au  bout  de  la  carriere 
auec  un  peu  de  gloire  que  de  la  recommencer  auec  hasard."  Alci- 
onee was  played  by  Moliere  on  December  2,  1659,  at  the  famous 
second  representation  of  the  Precieuses  ridicules.  Sceuole  was 
frequently  given  by  Moliere's  troupe  and  remained  on  the  boards 
more  than  a  century  after  its  first  appearance.  It  was  largely 
due  to  the  fame  brought  him  by  his  plays  and  early  translations 
that  Du  Ryer  was  elected  to  the  Academy  over  Corneille,  although 
the  choice  took  place  after  the  publication  of  Polyeucte. 

A  full  discussion  of  Du  Ryer's  work  as  a  translator  does 
not  come  within  the  scope  of  this  volume,  but  a  general  statement 
of  the  kind  and  quantity  of  his  translations  may  help  to  explain 
his  life  and  his  plays.  His  interest  in  the  classic  tongues  was  first 
shown  by  the  Latin  poem  to  his  father  that  has  been  quoted,  and 
by  the  choice  of  subjects  for  his  early  plays  from  Plutarch, 
Tatius,  Barclay,  Eumathius.  His  first  translation,  the  Traitte 
de  la  Prouidence  de  Dieu  by  Salvianus,  Bishop  of  Marseilles, 
appeared  December  3,  1633,  with  a  dedication  to  the  abbe  de 

1  Cf.  Livet,  Histoire  de  I'Academiefranfaise,  i,  301. 


LIFE  27 

Tillieres  and  complimentary  verses  welcoming  Du  Ryer  among 
the  writers  of  prose.  He  followed  this  volume  with  translations 
of  a  great  portion  of  Cicero's  works,  which  appeared  at  various 
times  between  1638  and  the  end  of  his  life.  He  translated  also 
an  oration  of  Isocrates,  La  Vie  de  Saint  Martin  by  Sulpicius 
Severus,  Les  Pseaumes  de  D.  Antoine,  roy  de  Portugal ,  most  of 
Seneca's  philosophical  works,  and  Ovid's  Metamorphoses  "auec 
explications  morales  et  politiques."1  He  devoted  himself  to  his- 
tory, translating  Strada,  Herodotus,  Polybius,  Livy,  de  Thou,  and 
Freinsheim's  supplements  to  both  Livy  and  Quintus  Curtius.* 
An  idea  of  the  labor  these  works  required  is  given  by  the  fact 
that  his  Cicero  covers  some  four  thousand  duodecimo  pages,  his 
de  Thou  some  three  thousand  folio.  His  turning  especially  to 
historians,  orators,  and  philosophers  was  to  be  expected  of  an 
author  whose  best  plays  are  oratorical  rather  than  lyric,  based 
more  frequently  on  history  than  on  romance. 

The  popularity  of  these  translations  is  clearly  proved  by  the 
number  of  editions  that  were  made  of  them.  His  Livy  had  five 
editions;  his  Herodotus,  seven;  his  Strada,  his  Ovid,  and  his 
Freinsheim,  twelve  each.  His  Pseaumes  de  Dom  Antoine  was 
translated  into  English,3  his  commentary  on  Ovid  into  Dutch.4 
He  was  so  well  known  as  the  translator  of  Cicero  that  translations 
of  the  Epistolce  familiares  which  were  published  at  Lyons  in 
1689  and  at  Paris  in  1704  were  falsely  attributed  to  him.5  In 
the  preparation  of  his  dictionary,  Richelet  uses  his  Livy,  Strada, 
and  Freinsheim  as  authoritative  works.6  His  popularity  with 
the  publishers  is  another  indication  of  this  success.  Tallemant 
speaks  of  an  effort  which  was  made  by  one  of  them  to  secure  a 
scholar  "a  opposer  a  Du  Ryer qui  traduisoit  Ciceron  pour  d'autres 
libraires."7  After  his  death  his  publishers  called  his  versions 
"si  belles  et  si  recherchees  du  public  et  notamment  de  toute 
1'Universite. " 8  Courbe  declares  that  he  had  no  superior  as  a 

1  For  a  criticism  of  this  translation  cf.  Goujet,  BiUiotheque,  vi,  45,  seq. 

*  For  a  complete  list  of  his  translations,  see  Appendix  B. 

1  Royall  Psalmes,  Translated  into  French  by  P.  Du  Rier:  Into  English  by  Baldwin 
St.  George,  London,  1659. 

4  By  J.  V.  Vondel,  Amsterdam,  1671,  1701,  1703,  1730.  Cf.  Graesse,  Tresor  de 
Livres  rares,  Dresden,  1859-1869. 

*  QueYard,  Les  supercheries,  i,  1188,  1189. 

6  Cf.  Dictionnaire  (edition  of  Amsterdam,  1706),  introduction  and  pp.  3,  12,21, 
22,  48,  474.     Cf.  also  the  introduction  to  the  first  edition,  Geneva,  1680. 
~  Historiettes ,  Paris,  1860,  vi,  295. 
3  Privilege  to  CEuures  de  Ciceron,  Paris,  1670,  volume  I. 


28  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

translator.1  Antoinede  Sommaville  writes  at  greater  length:3 
"Sa  personne  estoit  si  bien  en  veue,  et  ses  belles  notions  estoient 
receues  auec  tant  de  respect  dans  la  plus  celebre  Assemblee  des 
Scauans  du  Royaume,  qu'il  passoit  parmy  eux  pour  1'Arbitre  de 
toutes  les  difficultez  qui  s'y  proposoient,  sur  la  purete  de  nostre 
Langage. " 

More  trustworthy  than  this  praise  from  an  interested  pub- 
lisher is  the  evidence  of  Sorel,3  given  in  1664,  that  Du  Ryer 
"a  tousiours  passe  pour  vn  de  nos  meilleurs  Traducteurs, "  and 
of  Romuald4  that  he  was  "  vn  des  plus  industrieux  a  bien  composer 
en  Prose  et  en  Vers.  II  auoit  sur  tout  vn  talent  particulier  pour 
bien  traduire  les  Autheurs  Latins."  Especially  noteworthy  is 
Chapelain's  letter  of  June  8,  1673, s  in  which  he  urges  Le  Bossu 
to  learn  how  elegance  of  style  may  be  united  with  "la  justesse  du 
raisonnement, "  by  reading  Balzac,  d'Ablancourt,  Du  Ryer,  and 
Giry.for  "  ces  autheurs  sont  purs,  et  Ton  ne  peuterrer  enlessuyvant, 
pourveu  que,  comme  faisoit  le  Pere  Le  Moine,  on  n'en  porte 
point  1'imitation  au  dela  des  bornes  qu'ils  s'y  sont  prescrittes." 

Du  Ryer  refers  to  his  own  success  in  the  preface  to  his  trans- 
lation of  Strada:  "Bien  que  mes  autres  traductions  n'ayent  pas 
este  desapprouuees  et  qu'elles  ayent  eu  un  succ£s  qui  me  pouuoit 
obliger  d'en  entreprendre  de  nouuelles";  and  in  the  preface  to 
his  Livy  he  mentions  'Thonneur  que  Ton  m'a  fait  iusqu'icy  de 
souhaiter  mes  traductions."  But  while  his  friends  admired  his 
translations,  he  saw  the  defects  that  entered  into  them  through 
the  rapidity  with  which  he  was  forced  to  work.  It  was  not  long 
after  his  death  that  others  came  to  agree  with  him  and  even  to 
exaggerate  his  inaccuracy. 

Gueret  expressed  two  opinions  of  him  in  his  satirical  Parnasse 
reform^. 6  Du  Ryer  is  represented  as  afraid  that  he  will  be  pun- 
ished for  having  made  versions  of  Greek  and  Latin  authors 
according  to  former  French  translations  and  without  regard  for 
the  originals,  and  Seneca  and  Polybius  are  said  to  have  much 
cause  for  complaint  against  their  translators.  On  the  other 
hand,  Cicero  would  protect  him  on  account  of  the  glory  he  has 

1  Epistre  before  his  translation  of  de  Thou. 

*  Before  (Euurcs  de  Seneque,  Paris,  1658,  vol.  II. 
» Bibliotheque,  p.  202. 

4  Ephemerides,  Paris,  1662,  11,  474. 

iLettres  de  Chapelain,  edited  by  Tamizey  de  Larroque,  Paris,  1880-1883,  n, 
822,  823. 

•  Paris,  edition  of  1671,  pp.  7-13,  37. 


LIFE  29 

received  from  his  fine  translations.  In  a  similar  work  of  the  time, 
Vaugelas  is  made  to  class  him  with  Theophile,  Rotrou,  Pascal, 
Boileau,  and  others,  authors  "sur  qui  n6tre  censure  n'a  a  faire 
que  tres-peu  de  chose.  "J 

Baillet  declares  that  Sorel  praised  Du  Ryer  too  highly,  that 
even  in  Cicero,  his  best  translation,  passages  are  misunderstood 
and  translated  by  "galimatias"  to  deceive  students,  and  that  his 
Herodotus,  Polybius,  Ovid,  Livy,  and  Seneca  are  old  versions 
made  over.2  His  only  proofs  are  references  to  the  Parnasse 
reforme  and  to  pere  Escalopier's  criticism  of  Du  Ryer's  translation 
of  De  Natura  Deorum.  On  another  page3  he  places  him  among 
the  mercenary  translators,  as  does  Menage  a  few  years  later.4 

Bayle's  evidence  is  more  definite.  After  charging  Du  Ryer 
with  ignorance  and  carelessness,  partly  due  to  haste,  he  cites  six 
examples  to  prove  his  statement.  It  is  true  that  the  first  two 
of  these  are  from  Claveret, 5  not  from  Du  Ryer,  but  the  other  four, 
taken  from  his  translations  of  Antonio  and  de  Thou,  show  an 
undeniable  lack  of  exact  linguistic  scholarship,  accompanied  by 
ignorance  of  certain  historical  facts. 6  Bayle  declares  that  he  has 
found  other  mistakes  in  Du  Ryer's  translation  of  de  Thou,  and 
quotes  Escalopier  as  stating  that  there  are  a  number  in  his  De 
Natura  Deorum. 

Du  Ryer  is  criticized  by  a  rival  translator  of  de  Thou's  history7 
because,  "outre  qu'il  y  a  fait  beaucoup  de  fautes,  et  qu'en  mille 
endroits  il  n'a  point  entendu  son  Auteur,  il  1'a  fait  parler  si  mal, 
qu'il  1'a  tout  a  fait  deshonore\  "  Niceron  and  others  repeat  the 
judgments  of  Baillet,  Bayle,  or  d'Olivet,  without  adding  anything 
to  them.  Goujet8  also  quotes  Baillet  and  d'Olivet,  but  adds  a 
more  favorable  opinion  from  Villefore  as  to  the  Cicero:  "Je 
n'y  trouve  d'autre  d6faut  qu'un  style  devenu  tout-a-fait  vieux; 

1  La  Guerre  des  Autheurs,  The  Hague,  1671,  p.  169. 

*  Jugemens  des  S$avans,  Paris,  1685,  1686,  in,  548-550. 

» Ibid.,  tome  I,  p.  446.  «  Menagiana,  Amsterdam,  1693,  p.  366. 

sLa  Mothele  Vayer  in  his  Hexameron  rustique,  Paris,  1670,  pp.  37,  38,  points  out 
two  mistakes  made  by  a  translator  of  Cicero  and  Valerius  Maximus.  This  Bayle 
takes  as  a  reference  to  Du  Ryer,  and  quotes  the  passages  at  length,  but,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  are  from  Claveret,  Dialogues  de  la  Vieillesse  et  de  I'amitiS,  traduits 
du  Latin  de  Ciceron,  Paris,  1646,  p.  160,  and  his  Valere  Maxime,  Paris,  1647,  p.  6. 

'For  example,  annos  cum  sceculo  numerabat,  in  his  translation  of  de  Thou,  I,  675> 
is  taken  to  mean  that  the  person  referred  to  lived  to  be  a  hundred  years  old.  It 
should  be  noted,  however,  that  three  of  Bayle's  four  quotations  are  from  this  trans- 
lation of  de  Thou,  which  was  finished  just  before  the  author's  death  and  lacked  a 
careful  revision.  Sec  Bayle,  Dictionaire  historique,  Rotterdam,  1697. 

7  The  Hague,  1740,  p.  xxix.  8  Bibliotheque,  H,  233. 


30  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

car  du  reste,  il  prend  asses  juste  le  sens  de  son  Auteur. "  "  Cela 
est  vrai  en  gendral, "  continues  Goujet,  "mais  il  Test  aussi  qu'en 
bien  des  endroits  M.  du  Ryer  n'a  pas  rendu  exactement  ce  sens, 
qu'en  d'autres  il  a  passe  pardessus  les  difficultes."  Hoffman1 
says  of  his  translation  of  Herodotus,  "Du  Ryer  magna  sua  pau- 
pertate  commotus  hanc  versionem  fecit,  itaque  properavit  atque 
erravit  in  perplurimis  locis;  fortasse  enim  ad  versionem  Casau- 
boniam  vertebat. "  Finally,  M.  Justin  Bellanger2  considers  him 
laborious  rather  than  excellent,  the  author  of  translations  that 
are,  with  the  exception  of  the  Cicero,  mediocre. 

Of  these  critics,  Goujet,  it  seems  to  me,  has  come  nearest  the 
truth.  There  is  no  doubt  that  Du  Ryer  made  mistakes  which 
indicate  a  deficient  knowledge  of  history  and  linguistics.  He 
admits  this  frankly  in  the  letter  that  has  been  quoted.3  But  it 
is  also  true  that  he  worked  hurriedly  to  finish  the  thirty-odd  vol- 
umes of  the  translations,  many  of  them  in  folio,  with  which  he  is 
credited.  His  work  was  chiefly  that  of  a  popularizer  of  historians 
and  orators  who  wrote  in  Latin  and  Greek.  He  made  little 
attempt  at  reproducing  these  authors  with  the  accuracy  demanded 
by  modern  linguists,  but  this  is  usually  due,  not  to  ignorance,  but 
to  his  conception  of  the  translator's  function,  for  he  sought  to 
adapt  to  his  readers  the  facts  and  ideas  presented  by  an  author, 
rather  than  to  reproduce  carefully  the  original  expression.  He 
was  a  better  interpreter  than  grammarian. 

This  is  clear  from  his  translation  of  Cicero's  oration  against 
L.  Calpurnius  Piso.  He  there  not  only  indulges  in  simple  changes 
of  construction,  from  passive  to  active,  from  a  conditional  clause 
to  an  interrogative,4  or  substitutes  one  metaphor  for  another 
closely  allied  to  it,5  but  he  adds  phrases  for  force,  clearness, 
sonority,  even  to  give  a  moral  hint.  For  instance,  he  translates 
"dentes  putridi"  by  "cette  bouche  puante,  ces  dents  pourries 
et  infectes";  "furia"  by  "detestable  et  pernicieuse  furie"; 
"Piso  est  a  populo  Romano  factus,  non  iste  Piso"  by  "mais  ce 
fut  au  vieux  Pison  &  qui  le  Peuple  Romain  donna  cete  charge 
et  non  pas  4  ce  Pison  que  nous  voyons";  and  he  inserts  "Mes- 

1  Lexicon  Bibliographicwn,  Leipzig,  1833-36,  in,  450. 

' Histoire  de  la  traduction  en  France,  Paris,  1903,  pp.  34,  35.  I  hope  that  M. 
Bellanger  is  better  acquainted  with  Du  Ryer's  translations  than  with  his  plays,  for 
he  says  that  the  latter  wrote  eighteen  tragi-comedies  and  implies  that  his  Berenice 
treats  the  same  subject  as  Racine's.  i  P.  17. 

<  Edition  of  Paris,  1650,  pp.  96,  101. 
"lugulis  civitatis"  becomes  "le  sein  de  la  Republique, "  p.  102. 


LIFE  31 

sieurs"  at  will.1  An  interesting  case  of  improving  upon  the  text 
for  the  reader's  sake  is  found3  when  " maximarum  largitionum " 
is  rendered  "de  toutes  ces  grandes  largesses,  qui  sont  de  veri- 
tables  maux  et  des  biens  en  apparence. "  Efforts  to  adapt  his 
material  to  his  audience  are  shown  in  his  treatment  of  Roman 
military  and  judicial  terms.  The  forum  becomes  the  barreau; 
indices,  messieurs;  centuriones,  capitaines. 3  Finally,  an  indication 
of  his  aims  in  translation  can  be  had  from  his  preface4  to  Vauge- 
las's  Quinte-Curce,  in  which  he  praises  the  translator  for  bettering 
the  original,  and  from  his  preface  to  his  own  Herodote,  in  which  he 
expresses  his  desire  to  reproduce,  not  the  exact  meaning  of  the 
original,  but  "cette  nettete  de  langage  et  cette  politesse  majes- 
tueuse  qui  est  si  digne  de  1'Histoire. " 

Du  Ryer's  translations  helped  to  keep  him  classic  in  subject 
and  manner,  while  his  contemporaries  were  following  Italian 
and  Spanish  models.  The  development  of  his  interest  in  analysis 
of  character,  unity  and  simplicity  of  subject,  dignity  of  tone, 
coincides  with  the  period  in  which  he  was  devoting  an  increasing 
amount  of  time  to  translation.  His  translations  helped  to  spread 
his  fame  and  win  his  seat  in  the  Academy.  They  were  his  chief 
means  of  support  after  1640.  But  his  labors  in  this  field  grew  so 
greatly  that  they  left  him  no  time  for  dramatic  writing  and  stifled 
his  interest  in  creative  work.  His  translations  were  too  hurried 
to  be  of  lasting  value,  and  the  inaccuracies  found  in  them  after 
his  death  detracted  greatly  from  his  reputation.  Du  Ryer's  per- 
manent contribution  to  literature  is  found,  not  here,  but  in  his 
plays,  the  study  of  which  will  form  the  subject  of  the  following 
chapters. 

1  Pages  95,  105,  97,  101. 
•  Page  100. 

»  Pages  246-248.  His  usage  is  not  fixed,  for  he  retains  cohortes,  tribunus  militaris, 
tribus:  pp.  248,  256,  277. 

«Page  7  in  the  edition  of  Paris,  1681. 


CHAPTER  II. 

EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES. 

The  plays  discussed  in  this  chapter  are  Aretaphile,  Clitophon, 
Argenis  et  Poliarque,  its  continuation  Argents,  and  Lisandre  et 
Caliste.  While  there  is  little  doubt  that  these  are  Du  Ryer's  first 
plays,  the  exact  dates  of  their  composition  are  uncertain.  As  we 
know  that  plays  of  this  period  were  sometimes  acted  several  years 
before  they  were  published,  the  dates  which  appear  on  the  printed 
title-pages  give  us  only  an  approximate  idea  of  the  years  in  which 
the  plays  were  written.  On  the  other  hand,  we  know  that  an 
author  usually  published  his  plays  in  the  order  in  which  they 
were  composed  and  acted.  Evidence  for  dating  them  is  found 
in  prefaces,  notices,  and  a  study  of  their  structure. 

The  privilege  to  print  Argenis  et  Poliarque  is  dated  Febru- 
ary 25,  1630;  the  acheve  d' imprinter,  May  10  of  the  same  year. 
Corresponding  dates  for  Argenis  are  April  18  and  June  15,  1631; 
for  Lisandre  et  Caliste,  July  20  and  August  5,  1632.  Aretaphile 
and  Clitophon  were  never  published.  They  are  preserved  in  an 
eighteenth  century  manuscript,  the  title-pages  of  which  declare 
Aretaphile  to  be  the  first  of  Du  Ryer's  plays,  dated  1618,  and 
Clitophon  to  be  the  second,  dated  1632.  An  introductory  aver- 
tissement  states  that  these  are  his  first  two  plays,  but  it  does  not 
date  them. 

Now  these  title-pages  are  evidently  erroneous.  Even  if  we 
admit  that  Du  Ryer  wrote  Aretaphile  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  six 
years  before  the  Latin  poem  to  his  father,  which  is  his  earliest  pub- 
lished production,  we  can  not  understand  why  a  man  who  later 
wrote  many  plays  in  rapid  succession  waited  almost  twelve  years 
after  his  first  work  before  composing  a  second.  As  the  play  fig- 
ures in  the  Memoire  of  Mahelot,  it  was  probably  acted  about  1633, 
which  means  that  it  must  have  been  written  not  very  long  before, 

33 


34  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

for  plays  that  were  not  popular  enough  to  be  printed  did  not 
remain  a  great  while  on  the  boards.1  The  internal  evidence  of 
the  play  is  strongly  against  so  early  a  date  as  1618.  Moreover, 
the  title-pages  are  seen  to  be  unreliable  when  they  make  the 
obvious  mistake  of  calling  Aretaphile  and  Clitophon  the  first  two 
plays  by  Du  Ryer  and  at  the  same  time  date  the  latter  1632,  for 
Argents  et  Poliarque  and  Argents  had  both  been  published  before 
this  year. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  avertissement,  which  seems  to  have 
been  composed  by  one  of  Du  Ryer's  contemporaries  and  is  not 
necessarily  from  the  same  pen  as  the  title-pages,  is  probably 
correct  in  its  simple  statement  that  these  were  Du  Ryer's  first 
two  plays.  Indeed,  their  priority  is  attested  by  the  extreme 
irregularity  of  their  structure,  the  naive  manner  in  which  the 
author  orders  his  events  in  accordance  with  the  stories  he  is 
dramatizing,  the  preciosite  of  the  style,  the  fact  that  they  remained 
in  manuscript  form  while  all  his  other  plays  were  published,  and 
by  references  in  introductory  verses  before  Argents  et  Poliarque 
and  Argents  to  Du  Ryer's  escrits,  which  suggest  that  he  had  written 
books  before  Argents  et  Poliarque.* 

Therefore,  although  the  exact  dates  of  these  five  plays  can  not 
be  determined  with  certainty,  I  conclude  that  they  were  played 
as  follows:  Aretaphile  and  Clitophon,  about  1628;  Argenis  et 
Poliarque  and  Argenis,3  about  1629;  Lisandre  et  Caliste,  in  1630 
or  1631.  They  will  be  studied  in  this  order. 

The  manuscript  which  contains  Aretaphile  and  Clitophon  dates 
from  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  It  is  on  paper  water- 
marked with  the  date  I742.4  It  appears  to  be  a  copy  of  one 
belonging  to  the  marechal  d'Estrees  that  was  mentioned  by 
Titon  du  Tillet,  de  Beauchamps,  and  others  in  the  first  half  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  It  was  in  the  collection  of  La  Valliere 

1 1  owe  this  argument  to  Monsieur  G.  Lanson.  Cf.  also  his  suggestions  in  the 
Revue  d'  histoire  lilteraire  de  la  France,  xv,  354. 

» According  to  Mairet  (Epistre  dedicatoire  to  his  Galanteries  du  Due  d'Ossonne) 
Du  Ryer  began  writing  after  Rotrou,  Scudery,  and  Corneille,  and  consequently 
could  have  produced  nothing  before  the  last  part  of  1629;  but  the  passage  in  which 
this  statement  occurs  contains  certain  wilful  distortions  of  fact  that  make  it  untrust- 
worthy. I  agree  with  Stiefel  that  it  should  not  be  accepted  as  evidence.  Cf.  Zeit- 
schrift  fur  franzosische  Sprache  und  Literatur,  xvi,  9,  and  Marsan,  La  Sylv-ie,  Paris, 
1905,  p.  viii,  seq. 

*  This  was  probably  rewritten  in  1630,  after  the  publication  of  Argenis  et  Poliarque. 

«See  leaves  5,  22,  30,  75,  116,  135  of  the  manuscript. 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  35 

and  passed  thence  to  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale. x  On  the  fourth 
leaf  is  found  the  avertissement,  which  makes  interesting  statements 
regarding  the  success  of  the  two  plays  and  advances  a  curious 
theory  regarding  the  structure  of  the  second.  It  appears  to  have 
been  written  during  Du  Ryer's  life,  but  after  the  law  of  the  unities 
had  been  established  in  France.  It  runs  as  follows: 

"  Aretaphile  et  Clitophon  sont  les  deux  premieres  pieces  de  Theatre 
par  qui  M.  Du  Ryer  s'esta  fait  admirer;  bien  qu'elles  ne  soyent  pas 
comparables  a  tant  d'autres  qu'il  a  faites  depuis,  elles  furent  recues 
toutefois  avec  un  aplaudissement  universel  du  peuple  et  de  la  Cour; 
et  particulierement  Aretaphile  que  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans  apelloit  sa 
piece;  L'une  et  1'autre  sont  irregulieres  comme  toutes  les  autres  qui 
parurent  en  ce  terns,  mais  Clitophon  a  cet  avantage  qu'il  Test  beau- 
coup  moins ;  les  changemens  de  Scene  et  la  trop  longue  dur£e  de  terns 
necessaire  a  la  conduite  de  la  fable  y  sont  entre  les  Actes;  en  sorte 
que  chaque  Acte  separement  est  dans  r&roite  rigueur  des  regies,  bien 
que  pris  ensemble  ils  soyent  irreguliers,  cette  nouvelle  me'thode  fut 
admire'e  des  Doctes,  qui  temoignerent  que  s'il  £toit  permis  de  faire 
des  Poemes  dramatiques  centre  les  loix  de  la  Scene  ce  devoit  6tre  de 
cette  sorte ;  aussi  ce  fut  un  acheminement  a  les  observer,  et  comme  un 
avantcoureur  de  tant  d'autres  ouvrages  accomplis  qui  suivirent  Clito- 
phon, entre  lesquels  1'Alcimedon  de  n6tre  auteur  fut  le  premier." 

The  plot  of  Aretaphile  is  taken  from  Plutarch's  De  Mulierum 
Virtutibus,  xix,3  in  which  Aretaphila  is  represented  as  the  wise 
and  beautiful  daughter  of  ^Eglator  and  wife  of  Phaedimus,  illus- 
trious citizens  of  Cyrene.  Nicocrates,  the  villain  of  the  tale, 
having  put  to  death  ^glator  and  the  priest  of  Apollo,  made 
himself  ruler  of  the  town  and  forced  Aretaphila  to  marry  him. 
He  then  showed  much  love  for  her,  but  she,  moved  by  patriotism, 
sought  to  make  way  with  him.  At  first  she  tried  poison,  but 
her  plans  were  discovered  by  her  mother-in-law,  who  had  her 
imprisoned  and  tortured.  She  escaped,  however,  through  her 
influence  over  Nicocrates,  by  whom  she  was  restored  to  her  former 
position  of  honor.  Then  she  gave  her  daughter  to  Leander, 
the  tyrant's  brother,  and  thus  persuaded  him  to  hire  a  slave  to 
kill  Nicocrates.  When  the  deed  was  done,  however,  Leander 
made  himself  a  tyrant  like  his  predecessor.  Aretaphila,  nothing 
daunted,  stirred  up  a  war  with  their  neighbors  and  called  in  the 

1  MS.  fr.  25496.      It  contains  138  leaves  and  is  written  in  an  easily  legible  hand. 

*  In  the  original  si  est. 

»See  Lancaster,  The  French  Tragi- Comedy,  Baltimore,  1907,  121. 


36  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

aid  of  an  African  chieftain  named  Anabus,  whom  she  bribed  to 
arrest  Leander  after  she  should  persuade  the  latter  to  go  out  of 
the  city  to  confer  with  him.  The  plan  suceeded.  Leander, 
captured  by  the  Africans  and  sold  to  her  friends,  was  tied  up  in  a 
sack  and  thrown  into  the  sea,  while  his  mother  was  burned  alive. 
Aretaphila  was  offered  the  government  of  the  town,  but  she  de- 
clined it  and  spent  the  rest  of  her  days  at  peace  in  the  gynaceum. 

With  the  exception  of  the  heroine,  the  characters  are  not  much 
more  than  names.  Love  plays  little  part.  The  principal  idea 
is  the  painting  of  the  heroine's  patriotism,  a  feeling  that  makes 
use  of  assassination,  the  prostitution  of  a  daughter,  bribery,  and 
the  basest  treachery,  and  finally,  when  successful,  obtains  its 
vengeance  by  drowning  one  victim  and  burning  another.  Now 
Aretaphila's  patriotism  would  make  good  tragic  material,  if  its 
effect  were  not  lost  in  the  horror  excited  by  the  acts  it  occasions. 
But  Du  Ryer  was  not  writing  tragedy.  He  saw  in  the  tale  the 
outline  of  a  tragi-comedy  in  which  love  would  be  the  principal 
theme  and  patriotism  altogether  subordinate.  He  saw,  too, 
that,  to  make  the  play  successful,  he  must  win  his  audience's 
sympathy  for  Aretaphila  by  removing  some  of  her  crimes  and 
softening  others.  So  he  made  of  her  a  royal  precieuse  and  gave 
her  a  lover  who  combined  the  functions  of  Phaedimus  and  Anabus. 
Strangely  enough,  he  failed  to  make  a  similar  combination  of 
Nicocrates  and  Leander.  He  has  even  less  unity  than  Plutarch 
in  his  female  rdles,  for,  in  order  to  make  Aretaphila  young,  and 
to  spare  her  the  odium  of  prostituting  her  daughter,  he  changed 
the  latter  to  a  sister  and  married  her  to  Leander,  whom  he  called 
Cleandre. 

The  play  begins  before  Aretaphile's  marriage,  when  her  hand 
is  being  sought  with  success  by  Philarque,  son  of  the  Libyan  king, 
and  unsuccessfully  by  Nicocrate,  who  plots  to  usurp  the  throne. 
This  first  act  could  be  readily  omitted.  The  precious  expressions 
of  love,  the  king's  platitudes,  the  rejected  lover's  complaints 
replace  suitable  characterization  and  exposition  of  plot.  The 
intrigue  does  not  begin  till  after  Nicocrate's  usurpation,  an  event 
which  occurs  between  the  first  and  second  acts  along  with  his 
marriage  to  Aretaphile,  his  murder  of  her  father  and  the  king, 
and  the  exile  of  Philarque. 

There  is  more  characterization  in  the  second  act.  The 
usurper  brutally  avows  his  policy  of  heartless  egotism: 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  37 

"Les  Dieux  sont  Rois  au  Ciel,  je  le  suis  ici  has, 
Qu'ils  gouvernent  la  haut  la  pluye  et  le  tonnere 
Pour  moy  j'aurai  le  soin  de  gouverner  la  terre. " J 

Melnaipe,  sacrificateur,  opposes  him  boldly  and  is  sentenced  to 
death.  Next  Calvie,  his  mother,  tells  him  that  she  has  found 
Aretaphile  preparing  to  poison  him.  Unable  to  believe  the  charge, 
he  first  tests  the  poison  on  a  captive.  The  scene  has  no  counter- 
part in  Plutarch's  account  and  serves  to  emphasize  simply  and 
forcibly  the  cruelty  of  the  new  king  and  his  cold  indifference  to 
the  captive's  misfortune. 

"Nicocrate:  Viens  ca,  bois2  ce  breuvage,  il  me  faut  satisfaire 
Ainsi  n'en  doute  point,  ton  destin  rigoureux 
Cessera  de  te  rendre,  ici  bas  malheureux. 

Captif :       Tu  me  vois  par  contrainte  en  cette  obe"issance 
Cruel,  ainsi  je  bois  le  fiel  de  ta  puissance 
Car  je  me  doute  bien  que  ce  n'est  qu'un  poison. 

Nicocrate:  Comme  il  tremble,  je  crois  que  vous  avez  raison."3 

The  last  line,  addressed  to  his  mother,  shows  the  tyrant  en- 
tirely absorbed  in  testing  the  poison,  with  no  care  for  the  man's 
life.  When  he  sees  that  the  latter  is  dying,  he  ironically  pardons 
him.  The  scene  exhibits  a  restraint  and  directness  absent  from 
most  of  the  play.  The  rest  of  the  act  depicts  the  arrest  of  the 
heroine  and  a  visit  from  the  exiled  Philarque,  who  comes  for  news 
of  Aretaphile  and  makes  a  narrow  escape  from  his  rival's  guards. 

The  third  act  begins  with  a  long  rhetorical  monologue  from 
Aretaphile  in  prison,  followed  by  a  similar  soliloquy,  delivered 
by  the  disguised  Philarque.  Next  there  is  a  love  scene  with  a 
few  comic  passages,  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  soldiers  and  the 
flight  of  Philarque.  Aretaphile,  brought  before  Nicocrate,  pleads 
that  the  poison  was  intended  as  a  love  potion  and  that  its  fatal 
properties  were  unknown  to  her.  He  does  not  believe  her,  but 
is  forced  by  his  love  to  pardon  her,  in  spite  of  the  correctness  of 
his  suspicions.  Du  Ryer  exhibits  in  the  scene  a  knowledge  of 
the  human  heart  that  indicates  the  kind  of  work  he  was  later 
to  do. 

Philarque  now  reappears  as  a  shepherd  and  amuses  the 
audience  by  misdirecting  the  soldiers  who  pursue  him.  He  tells 
Aretaphile  that  a  band  of  followers  is  collecting  about  him  and 

1 II,  I.  «  The  original  has  boit.  •»  II,  5. 


38  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

that  he  is  getting  aid  from  neighboring  powers.  After  he  leaves, 
Aretaphile  plans  to  win  over  Cleandre,  brother  of  Nicocrate, 
by  giving  him  her  sister,  Belise,  in  marriage. 

With  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  act,  Nicocrate  has  forgotten 
his  love  for  Aretaphile  and  is  seeking  to  win  the  favor  of  Belise, 
now  married  to  his  brother.  She  shows  his  letter  to  her  husband 
and  then  lures  Nicocrate  to  a  rendezvous,  in  order  to  have  him 
put  to  death.  He  comes,  as  she  has  directed,  disguised  as  a 
certain  Aniser,  whom  Cleandre  has  engaged  a  courtier  to  kill. 
In  the  dark  the  courtier  is  deceived  by  Nicocrate 's  disguise  and 
strikes  him  dead.  He  cries  only  "  je  suis  mort. "  A  soldier  soon 
stumbles  over  the  dead  body,  draws  it  into  the  moonlight,  and 
recognizes  the  king.  A  picturesque  setting  is  furnished  by  the 
night,  the  moonlight,  and  the  going  and  coming  of  the  various 
persons  connected  with  the  crime. 

The  author  has  succeeded  in  keeping  Aretaphile  innocent  of 
this  murder,  planned  by  her  sister  and  Cleandre,  but  in  doing  so 
he  has  allowed  her  to  fall  into  the  background.  She  reappears 
after  Cleandre  has  succeeded  his  brother  on  the  throne,  when,  in 
spite  of  Belise 's  advice,  he,  too,  has  determined  to  reign  despoti- 
cally. He  has  not  long  to  do  so,  as  Philarque  comes  against 
Cyrene  with  an  army  and  Aretaphile  joins  him  outside  the  walls. 
Philarque  plans  with  a  conseiller  to  capture  Cleandre  by  proposing 
to  parley  with  him  half-way  between  the  two  armies.  When 
Cleandre  hears  of  this,  he  is  cast  into  great  perplexity  until  he  is 
shamed  by  Aretaphile  into  venturing  to  meet  Philarque.  His 
fears  are  soon  realized,  for  he  is  seized  by  his  enemies ;  but,  instead 
of  being  put  to  death,  as  in  Plutarch,  he  is  pardoned  by  the  new 
king,  who  is  unwilling  to  mar  the  joy  of  his  restoration  to  the 
throne  and  his  marriage  to  Aretaphile. 

This  analysis  shows  the  structural  weakness  of  the  play.  The 
author  has  preferred  a  romance  to  a  story  of  brutal  patriotism 
and  has  accordingly  softened  his  characters  and  reduced  their 
crimes.  There  is  no  longer  a  central  figure  planning  to  bring 
about  the  denouement.  There  is  a  series  of  events,  caused  by 
different  persons,  which  do  not  necessarily  lead  up  to  each  other 
and  most  of  which  might  be  omitted  without  affecting  the  ending 
of  the  play.  The  unity  of  action  is  violated  by  digressions  also 
and  by  the  fact  that  too  much  of  importance  takes  place  between 
the  acts.  The  time  involved  is  many  months,  perhaps  years. 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  39 

The  place  is  within  the  walls  of  Gyrene  and  a  short  distance 
outside  them.  It  is  described  in  Mahelot's  Memoire1  as 
follows: 

"II  faut,  au  Milieu  du  theatre,  Vn  Palais  cache",  ou  il  y  ayt  Vn  torn- 
beau  et  des  Armes,  de  la  bougie,  des  larmes,  du  Soucy,  deux  piramides 
Ardantes;  au  deuant  de  ce  palais,  Vn  autre  palais,  pour  Vn  Roy. 
A  Vn  des  costez  du  theatre,  Vne  grande  tour,  et  de  lautre  coste*  Vne 
chambre  ferme'e;  Des  tableaux,  Vne  table,  des  flambeaux,  dedans  La 
chambre ;  au  troisiesme  Acte,  il  se  faict  Vne  nuict ;  il  faut  deux  Menottes 
ou  chaisnes,  deux  fiolles,  Vn  chapeau  de  fleurs,  Vne  ficelle,  ou  Ion 
attache  Vne  Lettre. " 

The  properties  here  indicated  show  how  little  attention  is 
paid  to  local  color.  The  flowers  and  trees  mentioned*  and  the 
customs  depicted  are  French  rather  than  African.  The  desert  is 
of  no  importance.  Indeed,  some  proper  names,  an  occasional 
reference  to  a  plurality  of  gods,  and  a  "demon  tutelaire"3  are  the 
only  means  used  to  give  the  piece  an  African  setting.  Plutarch's 
gynceceum  and  his  use  of  a  sack  for  drowning  the  usurper  are 
not  imitated. 

While  the  chief  interest  is  in  the  situations,  some  of  which 
have  considerable  dramatic  power,  the  study  of  character  has  not 
been  altogether  neglected.  Aretaphile  has  lost  the  ferocity  which 
distinguished  her  in  Plutarch,  and  with  it  much  of  her  force  and 
ingenuity.  She  now  accomplishes  little  besides  her  own  pardon 
from  the  charge  of  poisoning,  and  the  marriage  of  her  sister  to 
Cleandre.  She  uses  her  powers  in  insipid  soliloquies  on  love  and 
sorrow,  and  in  devising  means  of  reuniting  herself  to  Poliarque. 
Belise  appears  little,  except  in  the  fourth  act,  where  her  outraged 
virtue  rouses  her  to  bring  about  the  murder  of  Nicocrate.  The 
latter  is  the  chief  male  figure.  As  a  rejected  lover,  a  usurping 
tyrant,  a  man  who  allows  himself  to  be  deceived  by  the  woman 
who  has  attempted  to  murder  him,  he  plays  an  interesting  rdle 
of  some  complexity.  Since  fickleness  is  hardly  consistent  with 
the  rest  of  his  character,  his  love  of  Belise  is  not  convincing. 
As  I  have  said,  it  seems  unfortunate  for  the  unity  of  interest 
that  Nicocrate  and  Cleandre  are  not  merged,  but  something  is 
gained  by  the  actual  arrangement,  for  the  murder  of  Nicocrate 
and  its  attendant  scenes  of  plotting  are  made  possible,  while  the 
author  has  an  opportunity  to  show  his  talent  by  the  manner  in 

1  Folio  35  v°  and  36.  *  III,  12.  » II,  10. 


4O  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

which  he  distinguishes  the  brave  tyrant  from  his  timid  brother. 
Cleandre's  cowardice  serves  to  differentiate  the  two  men  and 
suits  well  the  r61e  he  plays  at  the  end.  Philarque  is  a  color- 
less hero,  possessed  of  the  usual  virtues  and  fashionable  wit  of 
Du  Ryer's  time.  There  are  minor  characters  worthy  of  men- 
tion, especially  the  virtuous  and  platitudinous  king,  the  sturdy 
priest  of  Apollo,  the  attendant  who  follows  Nicocrate  faithfully 
through  his  crimes,  only  to  be  dismissed  without  cause,  and  Ariste, 
a  politic  friend  to  Philarque,  the  furnisher  of  his  disguises  and  his 
representative  at  Cyrene  during  his  exile. 

There  are  sixteen  persons  besides  a  number  of  soldiers.  They 
provide  the  tragi-comedy  with  movement  and  variety,  contrast- 
ing with  the  small  cast  used  by  Du  Ryer  in  his  classic  tragedies. 
The  later  psychological  plays  are  predicted  by  occasional  conflicts 
of  emotions,  acted  or  described.1  The  dialogue  is  sometimes 
concise  and  forcible,  but  often  it  is  marred  by  concetti,  mixed 
metaphors,  and  chevilles.  The  soliloquies  are  too  long.  Indeed, 
much  in  both  style  and  structure  indicates  that  this  is  a  first  play, 
but  the  author  already  shows  freedom  in  the  treatment  of  his 
source,  the  ability  to  characterize  certain  persons,  and  to  create 
situations  of  dramatic  power. 

Clitophon,  the  other  play  found  in  this  manuscript,  was  cer- 
tainly acted,  as  it  appears  in  Mahelot's  Memoire  and  was  adver- 
tised to  be  played  at  the  H6tel  de  Bourgogne  during  the  Carnival 
fortnight  of  the  year  i634.2  The  play  is  based  on  a  Greek 
romance,  the  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  of  Achilles  Tatius.3  The 
original  story,  an  erotic  Odyssey,  stuffed  with  remarkable  adven- 
tures and  insipid  sentimentality,  has  been  closely  followed  by  the 
dramatist,  except  in  a  few  events,  omitted  for  the  sake  of  decency 
or  probability.  Like  Aretaphile  the  play  begins  too  soon  and 
introduces  into  the  first  act  persons  of  seeming  importance  who 
do  not  appear  again.  The  dramatist  relates  few  of  the  adven- 
tures that  in  the  original  precede  the  elopement  of  the  lovers. 
He  omits  the  lengthy  dissertations  on  various  forms  of  love,  the 
tirade  against  women,  and  a  number  of  descriptions.  When  the 
play  begins,  Lucipe  is  living  with  her  mother  at  Tyre,  where 

•  See  IV,  2,  5. 

'  See  Fournier,  Varietes  historiques,  Paris,  1855,  n,  345-355,  and  p.  62  below. 
'  See  Erotici  Scriptores,  27,  seq.,  Paris,  1885.     Cf.  Lancaster,  The  French  Tragi- 
Comedy,  125. 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  41 

Clitophon  has  fallen  in  love  with  her.  Pirates  come  to  carry  her  off, 
but  by  mistake  they  seize  another  girl.  Her  mother,  frightened 
by  the  incident,  insists  upon  leaving  town,  and  thus  forces  her 
daughter  to  elope  with  Clitophon.  The  lovers  are  accompanied 
by  Satire,  a  faithful  servant,  who  persuades  them  to  go  to  his 
father's  house  at  Alexandria.  On  the  way  they  are  shipwrecked 
and  separated.  Satire  is  found  by  his  father,  Menelas,  who  has 
been  forced  by  pirates  in  the  Egyptian  Delta  to  make  for  them 
their  human  sacrifices.  The  lovers  fall  into  the  hands  of  these 
pirates  and  Menelas  is  ordered  to  sacrifice  them.  But  the  troops 
of  Charmide,  King  of  Alexandria,  attack  the  pirates  with  such 
success  that  Clitophon  escapes.  He  is  well  received  by  the 
Alexandrians,  but  is  soon  horrified  to  see  that  Lucipe  is  about 
to  be  sacrificed  by  the  pirates  on  a  "montagne"  in  sight  of  both 
armies.  He  sees  the  knife  plunged  into  her  bosom,  and  falls 
fainting  to  the  earth  when  prevented  by  his  new  friends  from 
going  to  her  rescue. 

The  third  act  begins  with  his  lamentations.  He  has  found 
Lucipe 's  tomb  and  is  about  to  kill  himself  on  it,  when  he  is  sur- 
prised by  Satire  and  Menelas  and  learns  from  them  that  Lucipe 
is  alive.  The  fact  that  the  sacrifice  was  performed  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  pirates  had  enabled  Menelas  to  open  a  bag  of  blood, 
placed  for  this  purpose  on  Lucipe's  breast,  and  thus  appear  to  kill 
her.  He  had  put  her  in  a  coffin,  where  she  remained  till  night. 
They  now  all  escape  to  the  Alexandrians,  and  the  lovers,  passing 
for  brother  and  sister,  are  protected  by  Charmide.  But  a  new 
difficulty  arises.  As  in  the  case  of  Abraham  and  Sarah,  the  ruler 
seeks  to  marry  the  woman  who  has  represented  herself  as  her 
lover's  sister.  Fortunately,  however,  Charmide  is  killed  in  a 
duel  with  Busire,  leader  of  the  pirates.  The  lovers  are  about  to 
be  united,  when  a  certain  Cheree,  follower  of  Charmide,  succeeds 
in  carrying  off  Lucipe  in  a  boat  and  eludes  Clitophon's  pursuit 
by  pretending  to  behead  Lucipe  and  throw  her  body  into  the 
water. I 

With  the  fourth  act  we  come  upon  elements  of  a  domestic 
comedy.  Clitophon,  mourning  Lucipe,  has  arrived  at  Ephesus, 
where  his  grief  is  intensified  by  his  meeting  Clinias  and  receiving 

1  This  event  is  not  represented  on  the  stage;  for  Hardy's  different  treatment  of 
the  same  situation,  drawn  from  the  same  source,  cf.  Lancaster,  Two  Lost  Plays  hy 
Alexandre  Hardy,  Modern  Language  Notes,  May,  1912. 


42  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

through  him  his  father's  consent  to  his  marriage.  We  learn  that 
the  hero  is  now  pursued  by  the  attentions  of  a  wealthy  widow 
called  Melite,  whose  husband  has  been  recently  lost  at  sea: 

"Elle  se  de"sespere  elle  accuse  les  Cieux 
Elle  veut  arracher  et  son  coeur  et  ses  yeux 
Enfin  elle  parut  tellement  desole"e 
Qu'en  moins  de  quatre  jours  elle  fut  console."1 

Melite  sends  her  maid,  and  then  conies  in  person,  to  implore 
Clitophon's  favor,  but  he  still  thinks  only  of  Lucipe  and  refuses 
to  accept  her  proposals.  Lucipe,  of  course,  is  not  dead.  Any- 
one who  has  followed  the  history  of  her  previous  escapes  is  not 
surprised  to  learn  that  it  was  another  woman  whom  Cheree 
killed  in  the  sight  of  Clitophon  and  that  Lucipe  was  preserved 
spotless  on  her  abductor's  boat,  till  she  made  her  escape  while  the 
men  who  carried  her  off  were  fighting  over  her.  She  is  living 
as  an  attendant  at  the  house  of  one  of  Melite's  farmers  and  is 
ordered  by  Melite  to  intercede  for  her  with  Clitophon.  She 
thus  learns  that  Clitophon  still  loves  her,  though  his  failure  to 
recognize  her  has  made  her  doubt  it. 

New  complications  are  caused  by  the  arrival  of  Tersandre, 
husband  of  Melite,  who  has  escaped  from  the  shipwreck  in  which 
he  was  supposed  to  have  perished.  Clitophon  is  immediately 
arrested  for  adultery  and  thrown  into  prison,  where  his  lament 
forms  the  subject  of  stanzas  that  suggest  those  in  Polyeucte. 
Tersandre  next  seeks  to  seduce  Lucipe,  who  escapes  to  the  Temple 
of  Diana.  He  then  hires  a  man  to  pretend  to  have  been  arrested 
for  the  murder  of  Lucipe.  Clitophon,  hearing  the  man's  confes- 
sion, wishes  to  die  also,  and  represents  himself  as  her  murderer, 
in  order  that  he  may  be  put  to  death.  The  court,  having 
acquitted  Clitophon  of  the  charge  of  adultery,  is  in  doubt  how 
to  act  in  the  matter  of  his  confession  and  is  about  to  leave  the 
decision  to  the  gods,  when  certain  Byzantines  come  to  offer  thanks 
to  the  goddess  for  their  deliverance  from  civil  war.  Among  them 
is  Lucipe's  father,  who  execrates  Clitophon  when  he  learns  of 
Lucipe's  fate.  At  this  moment,  however,  Lucipe  enters  and 
everything  is  explained.  Tersandre,  induced  to  confess  his  part 
in  the  matter,  is  pardoned  at  Melite's  request,  while  the  hero 
and  heroine  are  at  last  united. 

'IV,  5. 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  43 

Du  Ryer  has  not  yet  acquired  constructive  power.  He 
bewilders  us  by  the  number  of  his  characters  and  the  rapidly 
changing,  loosely  joined  scenes.  The  dramatic  struggle  is  between 
the  lovers  and  fate.  Interest  in  their  marriage  is  the  only  thing 
that  unifies  the  play,  for  there  is  no  unity  of  action,  the  place 
includes  localities  in  Syria,  Egypt,  and  Asia  Minor,  and  the  time 
covers  several  months  at  least.  The  complexity  of  the  setting  is 
shown  by  Mahelot's1  requirements: 

"Au  Milieu  du  theatre  Vn  temple  fort  superbe  qui  sert  au  5me 
Acte  est  le  plus  beau  du  theatre,  enrichy  de  lierre,  dor  clinquant 
balustres,  termes  ou  colomnes,  Vn  tableau  de  Diane;  au  Milieu  de 
lautel  deux  chandeliers  garnis  de  chandelles.  A  vn  cost£  du  theatre  il 
faut  vne  prison  en  tour  ronde;  que  la  grille  soit  fort  grande  et  basse 
pour  voir  trois  prisonniers.  A  cost€  de  la  prison  il  faut  Vn  beau 
lardin  spacieux  orn.6  de  ballustres,  de  fleurs,  et  de  pallissades. 
de  lautre  cost6  du  theatre  il  faut  Vne  Montaigne  esleue"e.  Sur  ladicte 
montagne  Vn  tombeau,  Vn  pilier,  Vn  carquan,  et  Vn  Autel  boccager  de 
Verdure  et  Rocher,  ou  Lon  puisse  monter  sur  ledict  rocher  deuant  le 
peuple.  A  cost£  du  Rocher  Vn  Antre,  Vne  mer,  Vn  demy  vaisseau. 
Sous  le  rocher  faire  paraistre  Vne  prison  pour  deux  personnes,  qui  soit 
Cache"e.  il  faut  du  Sang,  des  esponges,  Vne  petite  peau  pour  faire  la 
feinte  du  cou  du  sacrificateur,  Vn  chapeau  de  fleurs,  vn  flambeau  de 
Cire ;  il  se  fait  Vne  Nuict  Si  Ion  veut ;  il  faut  des  turbans  pour  des  turcs, 
des  dards,  des  lavelots,  tambours,  trompettes,  des  chesnes,  des  clefs, 
vne  robe  de  conseiller,  deux  bourguinottes,  de  la  Verdure,  Vne  lanterne 
gourde  et  Vne  chandelle  dedans." 

The  Turks  are  Mahelot's  own  naive  addition,  but  the  mountain 
in  the  Egyptian  Delta  is  due  to  Du  Ryer,  for  there  is  no  mention 
of  it  in  the  Greek  original.  Its  introduction  makes  the  scene  more 
picturesque  and  helps  to  explain  why  the  sacrificer's  fraud  was 
not  perceived.  The  geographical  absurdity  of  it  probably  dis- 
turbed the  audience  as  little  as  it  did  Du  Ryer. 

There  is  almost  no  character  study.  The  lovers  are  devoted, 
chaste,  unintelligent;  their  friends,  faithful  and  resourceful;  the 
villains  are  differentiated  from  one  another,  though  little  devel- 
oped. Busire  is  a  despot;  Cheree,  a  traitor;  Tersandre,  a  jealous 
husband  and  sensual  lover.  The  most  interesting  personality 
is  that  of  Melite,  the  amorous  widow,  sentimental,  self-seeking, 
kindly,  and  ineffective.  The  character  is  repeated  in  the  Rodope 
of  Alcimedon. 

1  Memoire,  fol.  47  v°  and  48. 


44  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

The  proprieties  are  more  carefully  preserved  than  in  the  Greek 
romance.  Blood  replaces  entrails  in  the  sack  attached  to  Lucipe. 
As  M  elite  does  not  marry  Clitophon,  nor  accompany  him  from 
Egypt  to  Ephesus,  she  is  not  guilty  of  adultery  or  polyandry. 
The  oracular  test  of  virtue  is  omitted.  Other  elements  of  pre- 
ciosite  are  found  in  references  to  the  rules  of  love  and  in  Lucipe's 
punning  as  she  is  taken  from  the  coffin.  Indeed  the  subject 
seems  to  have  appealed  to  the  precieux,  for  Clitophon  was  the 
fashionable  name  given  the  abbe  Cotin.1 

In  short,  this  is  the  least  artistic  of  Du  Ryer's  plays.  The 
success  it  met  must  have  been  due  to  its  varied  incidents  and  its 
complex  setting,  unless  the  insipid  dialogue,  the  mechanical 
characters,  the  surprises  of  the  plot  had  attractions  for  a  seven- 
teenth century  audience  that  are  not  apparent  now. 

For  the  plots  of  his  first  two  plays  Du  Ryer  had  gone  to 
Plutarch's  semi-historical  narrative  and  to  a  Greek  romance. 
For  the  next  he  turned  to  a  contemporary  novel  which  had  some 
likeness  to  his  previous  sources  by  its  use  of  an  ancient  tongue, 
its  variety  of  romantic  adventures,  its  superficial  psychology,  its 
happy  ending  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  a  series  of  villains.  John 
Barclay  published  his  Latin  novel,  Argenis,  at  Paris  in  1621  and  at 
least  six  editions  had  appeared  by  1630.  The  length  of  the  story 
forced  Du  Ryer  to  divide  his  play  into  two  five-act  divisions  or 
journees, a  one  of  which,  called  Argenis  et  Poliarque  ou  Theocrine,  was 
published  in  1 630  and  the  other,  called  A  rgenis,  in  1 63 1 .  A  preface 
to  the  first  of  these  praises  Barclay's  work  and  explains  that  the 
first  journee  treats  the  birth  of  the  lovers'  passion,  while  "bien  tost 
une  seconde  iournee  vous  fera  voir  la  suitte  de  leurs  aduentures." 

In  his  two  previous  plays  Du  Ryer  commenced  to  dramatize 
the  stories  near  their  beginnings,  so  that  most  of  the  exposition 
is  acted.  In  his  later  plays  he  began,  like  other  classicists,  in  the 
middle  of  his  story,  leaving  the  exposition  to  conversations  in 
which  his  actors  refer  to  past  events.  Argenis  et  Poliarque  and 
Argenis  show  the  transition  from  one  method  to  the  other  in  an 
interesting  way. 

Barclay  himself  began  in  the  middle  of  the  story  and  ac- 
quainted his  reader  with  what  had  already  happened,  partly  by 

1  Livet,  Dictionnaire  des  Pretieuses,  i,  61. 

2  An  occasional  custom  of  the  time.     Cf.  Mareschal's  Genereuse  Allemande  in 
two  journees  and  Hardy's  Theagene  et  Cariclee  in  eight. 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  45 

relation  in  the  first  book,  more  largely  by  the  secret  interview  be- 
tween Radirobanes  and  Selenissa  in  the  third  and  the  narrative 
told  by  Gobrias  in  the  fourth.  Du  Ryer  followed  him  closely  in 
the  second  journee,  where  he  made  Selenisse  relate  the  events  that 
had  formed  the  subject  of  the  first.  Thus  this  secondjournee  forms 
a  complete  play,  while  the  first  does  not.  When  the  two  plays 
were  acted  together,  the  story  was  dramatized  from  the  begin- 
ning, after  the  manner  of  Aretaphile  or  Clitophon,  but  if  the  second 
journee  were  given  alone,  there  would  be  a  nearer  approach  to 
the  classic  arrangement  and  at  the  same  time  a  closer  following 
of  Barclay.  It  is  probable  that  the  two  plays  were  first  written 
to  be  given  together,  but  that  the  author,  finding  that  this  arrange- 
ment produced  too  long  a  play,  later  introduced  into  the  second 
journee  speeches  that  told  what  had  happened  in  the  first,  and 
thus  made  it  possible  to  play  this  second  part  alone.  The  repre- 
sentation of  the  second  journee  without  the  first  may  be  indicated 
by  Mahelot,  for  he  refers  to  the  properties  used  only  in  the  second 
journee,  and  mentions  nothing  that  is  found  in  the  first  and  not 
in  the  second. 

The  first  journee  concerns  the  beginning  of  the  love-affair 
between  Poliarque  and  Argenis.  It  is  based  chiefly  on  Selenisse's 
narrative  in  the  third  book  of  Barclay's  work,  partly  on  narra- 
tives in  his  first  and  fourth  books.  Meleandre,  King  of  Sicily, 
has  shut  up  his  daughter  in  a  castle,  where  Selenisse  must 
keep  her  from  the  sight  of  men.  Licogene,  a  Sicilian  prince, 
and  Poliarque,  King  of  France,  seek  to  win  her  hand,  the  first 
using  force,  the  second  strategy.  The  two  resulting  plots  are 
developed  in  turn  and  do  not  meet  till  the  second  scene  of  the 
fourth  act. 

Poliarque,  who  had  fallen  in  love  with  the  portrait  of  Argenis, 
left  his  kingdom  and,  taking  a  girl's  disguise  and  the  name  Theo- 
crine,  prevailed  upon  Selenisse  to  admit  him  into  the  castle, 
where  he  soon  established  himself  in  the  favor  of  Argenis.  One 
night  Licogene  attacked  the  castle  and  would  undoubtedly  have 
carried  off  Argenis  and  killed  Meleandre,  then  on  a  visit  to  the 
house,  had  not  Poliarque,  in  spite  of  his  disguise  as  a  woman, 
seized  a  sword  and  put  the  intruders  to  flight.  The  affair  re- 
sulted in  Poliarque's  leaving  the  castle  after  he  had  revealed  his 
sex  to  Argenis  and  told  her  of  his  love.  Barclay  states  merely 
that  the  heroine  was  astonished  at  this  information,  but  Du  Ryer, 


46  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

seeing  in  it  an  opportunity  to  describe  a  conflict  of  passions  in  a 
soul,  makes  Argenis  hesitate  between  love  and  indignation  at  the 
liberty  which  her  lover  has  taken.  The  latter  gives  her  a  sword, 
saying, 

"Si  ie  suis  criminel,  tenez  voila  dequoy 
Me  punir  d'vn  forfaict  commis  soubs  vostre  loy." 

Argenis  prefers  to  await  "vn  iuste  foudre, "  but  she  soon  relents 
and  allows  her  love  and  gratitude  to  prevail.  The  scene  is 
thoroughly  precious,  interesting  as  a  forerunner  of  the  struggle 
of  emotions  in  a  single  breast,  so  dear  to  classic  writers.  The 
resemblance  between  this  scene  and  the  Cid,  ill,  4,  is  apparent. 
There  is,  however,  no  direct  influence  on  Corneille,  for  the  latter 
states  in  his  Examen  that  he  drew  this  episode  from  the  Mocedades. 

The  fifth  act  recounts  Poliarque's  return  to  the  Sicilian  court 
in  man's  attire,  his  friendly  reception  by  the  king,  and  his  victory 
over  Licogene,  who,  after  his  failure  to  abduct  Argenis,  has  stirred 
up  a  rebellion  and  led  his  army  against  Meleandre.  On  the  eve 
of  the  battle,  Argenis  recites  stanzas  to  Minerva,  which  she  in- 
tends to  be  understood  by  Poliarque  as  an  assurance  of  her  love 
for  him.  After  the  battle,  Licogene  and  his  followers  determine 
to  lay  down  their  arms.  The  journee  ends  with  the  probability 
of  peace,  but  with  no  assurance  as  to  the  result  of  the  love  affair 
that  is  its  principal  theme. 

Argenis,  the  second  journee,  begins  with  the  arrival  in  Sicily 
of  Arcombrotte,  the  disguised  son  of  the  Queen  of  Mauretania. 
He  has  come  seeking  adventure,  which  he  finds  by  helping  Poli- 
arque fight  the  assassins  sent  against  him  by  Lycogene.  After 
the  enemy  have  been  put  to  flight,  he  learns  who  Poliarque  is  and 
what  has  been  going  on  in  Sicily.  Poliarque  has  left  court  because 
peace  is  about  to  be  granted  to  Lycogene.  They  soon  learn  that 
the  men  who  attacked  Poliarque  are  the  latter's  ambassadors 
and  that  charges  are  being  brought  against  Poliarque  for  having 
slain  some  of  them.  The  latter  accordingly  takes  refuge  in  a 
cave,  while  his  friends  spread  a  report  that  he  is  dead.  Two 
troops  of  peasants,  seeking  Poliarque,  arrest  in  his  stead  Arcom- 
brotte and  an  insane  man.  Both  are  taken  to  court,  where  the 
former  is  entertained  hospitably  while  the  latter  causes  much 
amusement  by  his  masquerading.  Shortly  after,  Poliarque,  dis- 
guised as  a  painter,  succeeds  in  seeing  Argenis  before  he  leaves  the 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  47 

country.  She  tries  in  vain  to  prevent  the  confirmation  of  peace 
with  Lycogene;  the  latter  is  pardoned  and  received  into  favor 
by  the  king. 

New  complications  are  caused  by  the  arrival  of  Radirobane, 
King  of  Corsica  and  Sardinia,  another  victim  to  the  charms  of  the 
heroine's  portrait.  Combining  his  forces  with  those  of  Meleandre, 
he  succeeds  in  defeating  Lycogene,  whose  head  is  brought  to  the 
stage  on  a  lance  by  Arcombrotte.  Radirobane  is  received  as  a 
suitor  for  the  hand  of  Argenis  and  bribes  Selenisse  until  she  relates 
to  him  the  events  of  the  first  journee  and  promises  to  win  the 
princess  for  him.  But  Argenis  remains  faithful  to  Poliarque  and 
soon  learns  that  he  is  leaving  for  France  to  gather  an  army  and 
return  for  her.  Radirobane  now  lures  Argenis  to  the  seashore  by  a 
pyrotechnic  display, x  but  his  plot  for  carrying  her  off  is  disclosed. 
The  heroine  feigns  sickness,  precipitating  a  Molieresque  dispute 
between  two  physicians,  and  thus  escapes  her  suitor,  who  seeks 
revenge  by  slandering  her  in  a  letter  to  Meleandre.  But  Sele- 
nisse exculpates  her,  and  the  king  decides  to  marry  her  to  Arcom- 
brotte as  soon  as  the  latter  obtains  his  mother's  consent. 

Meanwhile  Poliarque  and  his  sister,  Francinee,  sailing  with 
an  army  for  Sicily,  are  separated  by  a  storm,  which  drives  him 
to  Mauretania,  her  to  Sicily.  Welcomed  by  Hyanisbe,  queen  of 
the  former  country,  Poliarque  protects  her  against  the  invasion  of 
Radirobane,  whom  he  slays  in  single  combat.2  He  now  meets 
Arcombrotte,  who  is  really  Hyempsal,  a  Mauretanian  prince. 
Their  love  for  Argenis  is  about  to  bring  them  to  blows,  when 
Hyanisbe  makes  them  promise  to  remain  at  peace  till  they  return 
to  Sicily.  In  that  country  Francinee  has  been  hospitably  re- 
ceived, Selenisse  has  committed  suicide  from  remorse  over  her 
treachery,  and  all  the  court  is  eagerly  awaiting  the  return  of 
Poliarque  and  Arcombrotte.  These  princes  arrive  in  the  last 
scene  and  present  the  king  with  a  letter  from  Hyanisbe,  which 
informs  him  that  Arcombrotte  is  his  son  by  her  sister,  to  whom  he 
had  been  secretly  married  in  his  youth  and  who  had  died  at  the 
birth  of  his  son.  This  discovery  puts  a  stop,  of  course,  to  the 
rivalry  of  Arcombrotte,  who  solaces  himself  for  the  discovery 

'The  stage  direction  is,  "feux  d'artifice  paroissent  sur  la  mer. " 
2  Poliarque,  taunted  in  this  scene  (IV,  8)  with  having  disguised  himself  as  a  painter, 
replies,  "1'espee  est  mon  pinceau";  the  occurrence,  in  the  Pelerine  amoureuse,  V,  3 
(represented  1633-1634),  of  a  similar  disguise  for  the  hero  and  exactly  the  same 
retort  suggests  that  Rotrou  is  there  imitating  Du  Ryer. 


48  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

that  Argenis  is  his  sister  by  accepting  the  hand  of  Francinee, 
while  Poliarque  is  finally  united  to  the  heroine. 

The  first  journee  is  based  on  narratives  that  occur  here  and 
there  in  the  novel.  The  greater  part  of  the  first  three  acts 
consists  of  preparatory  interviews.  The  action  scarcely  begins 
before  the  second  scene  of  the  fourth  act.  There,  indeed,  is 
plenty  of  life  and  movement,  a  night  attack  for  abduction  and 
murder,  a  rescue  by  a  man  in  woman's  attire,  who  overcomes  a 
whole  band  of  ruffians,  a  declaration  of  love  in  which  the  hero 
gives  his  sword  to  his  lady  and  bids  her  slay  him  if  he  has  offended 
her.  The  fifth  act  contains  little  save  a  combat  without  result. 
The  play  remains  distinctly  introductory,  serving  chiefly  to  rouse 
our  interest  in  the  lovers  and  to  explain  the  relation  that  exists 
between  them  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  journee. 

Little  attempt  to  follow  the  original  verbally  is  made  in  this 
play,  and  many  conversations  are  introduced  which  Barclay 
barely  suggests.  The  song  in  the  first  scene  of  the  second  act 
is  developed  from  the  statement  that  Argenis  was  amused  in 
various  ways.  Lycogene's  encouraging  remarks  to  his  soldiers 
and  Poliarque's  curses  in  the  fourth  act  are  among  Du  Ryer's 
additions.  Perhaps  the  nearest  approach  to  direct  imitation  is 
the  translation  of  "Ego  inter  obscuras  fama  gentes  .  .  .  famam 
nominis  tui  excipere  potui"  by 

"La  voix  du  renom, 
Apporta  iusqu'£  nous  ses  vertus  et  son  nom. " x 

Barclay  expresses  this  fact  in  a  letter  brought  by  Poliarchus  to 
Selenissa;  Du  Ryer,  with  more  dramatic  effect,  has  Poliarque 
speak  it  while  he  is  conversing  with  Selenisse.  For  closer  re- 
semblances we  must  look  to  the  second  journee,  which  follows  the 
order  of  Barclay's  narrative  with  certain  omissions  and  elabora- 
tions. The  imitation  is  close  when  "O  ut  nunquam  fuissem 
Poliarchus"  is  translated  by, 

"Pleust  au  Ciel,  grand  Monarque, 
Que  iamais  sa  rigueur  ne  m'eut  fait  Poliarque."* 

On  the  other  hand,  Du  Ryer  changes  the  order  of  certain  events 
and  occasionally  expands  what  is  only  slightly  referred  to  by 

1  Du  Ryer,  III,  i;  Barclay,  in,  312,  edition  of  Leyden,  1630. 
1  The  speech  of  the  insane  man,  Barclay,  i,  103;  Du  Ryer,  II,  2. 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  49 

Barclay.  From  the  second  book  he  omits  Arcombrotte's  rescue 
of  the  king  and  the  murder  of  the  coachman,  the  plot  of  the 
poisoned  bracelet,  the  execution  of  Lycogene's  advisers,  Poli- 
arque's  shipwreck,  combat  with  the  pirates,  discovery  of  the  queen's 
jewels.  From  the  fourth  book  he  omits  details  of  the  battle; 
from  the  fifth,  the  adventures  of  Arsidas.  Du  Ryer  alone  makes 
Radirobane  fall  in  love  with  Argenis's  portrait.  Barclay  draws 
from  the  physicians'  dispute  the  lesson  that  diagnosis  is  unreli- 
able; Du  Ryer  uses  it  for  comic  effect.1  The  latter  omits  many 
incidents  of  the  battle  between  Poliarque  and  Radirobane,  but  he 
develops  the  dialogue  between  the  two  leaders. 

The  plan  of  this  journee  resembles  that  of  Calder6n's  Argenis 
y  Poliarco,  which  appeared  in  1637,  but  the  resemblance  is  due 
to  their  having  a  common  source  and  not  to  direct  imitation,  for 
the  Spanish  play  is  nearer  the  original  than  it  is  to  the  French, 
though  it  departs  from  its  source  enough  to  concentrate  its  inter- 
est on  the  lovers  and  Arcombrotte  and  improves  the  characteri- 
zation of  the  minor  persons.  Du  Ryer's  unity  is  that  of  interest 
rather  than  of  action.  Many  of  the  episodes  could  easily  be 
omitted.  Lycogene  and  Radirobane  would  make  a  more  distinct 
impression  if  they  were  united  into  one  character.2  If  we  con- 
sider the  second  journee  alone,  Arcombrotte  presents  the  same 
difficulty  in  Du  Ryer  that  he  does  in  Calder6n,  for  he  is  a  person 
with  whom  we  are  supposed  to  sympathize,  although  he  is  opposed 
to  Poliarque  during  most  of  the  play.  But  if  the  twojournSes  are 
taken  together,  our  interest  in  Poliarque  has  been  established  in 
the  first,  before  the  introduction  of  Arcombrotte.  In  this  respect 
Du  Ryer  is  superior  to  Calder6n  and  finds  some  justification  for 
his  first  journee. 

The  time  and  place  of  the  plays  are  as  varied  as  in  any  of 
Du  Ryer's  productions.  The  scene  is  laid  in  France,  Sicily,  and 
Africa.  The  time  must  cover  a  year  or  more.  The  properties 
required  for  the  representation  are  quite  elaborate,  more  so  than 
Mahelot 3  indicates : 

"II  faut,  au  Milieu  du  theatre,  Vn  Autel  fort  riche,  deux  flam- 
beaux et  des  Lumieres,  Vn  rechaut,  de  Lencens;  a  Vn  des  costez  du 
theatre,  Vn  feu  d'artifice,  dans  Vne  Mer  et  cache",  de  lautre  coste* 
Vne  grotte,  Vne  lance,  Vne  teste  feinte  et  des  trompettes. " 

1  Barclay,  n,  396;  Du  Ryer,  IV,  3. 

•  Calder6n  omits  one  and  barely  mentions  the  other.  $  Fol.  37  v°  and  38. 


5O  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

The  play  depends  for  interest  on  the  spectacular.  Several 
combats,  the  return  of  victors  with  the  head  of  the  vanquished 
leader,  a  sacrifice  to  the  goddess,  and  fireworks  are  among  its 
attractions.  There  are  also  appeals  to  the  patriotism  of  the 
crowd  in  the  fact  that  the  hero  is  King  of  France  and  in  the  senti- 
ment expressed  by  the  lines: 

"  La  valeur  se  nourrit  dans  le  sein  de  la  France, 
Elle  £  [sic]  tousiours  faict  voir  que  ses  moindres  guerriers 
Arracheroient  &  Mars  ses  plus  riches  lauriers.  "* 

The  characters  are  treated  in  melodramatic  fashion.  The  bravest 
of  heroes  loves  the  fairest  and  most  virtuous  of  women;  their 
love  is  crossed  by  two  monstrous  villains,  a  treacherous  duenna, 
a  weak  father  and  an  admirable  prince,  who  discovers  that  he  is  the 
brother  of  the  heroine  and  consoles  himself  by  marrying  the  sister 
of  the  hero.  The  plot  is  developed  by  commonplace  romantic 
means:  disguises,  combats,  attempts  at  seduction  and  abduction, 
shipwrecks,  the  recognition  of  a  lost  son. 

Nevertheless  there  is  promise  of  a  successful  dramatic  career 
in  the  appreciation  of  what  will  please  an  audience.  Du  Ryer  has 
learned  the  value  of  an  interesting  situation  and  has  experimented 
in  the  conflict  of  passions  in  a  soul.  He  does  not  forget  to  bring 
the  hero  and  heroine  together  as  often  as  possible,  even  at  the 
expense  of  the  probabilities.  He  seeks  to  interest  the  audience 
in  Francinee  by  introducing  her  in  the  fourth  act,  instead  of 
following  his  source  in  merely  mentioning  her  at  the  end  of  the 
work.  By  his  omission  of  the  lower  classes,  the  refining  of  his 
characters,  and  his  greater  care  for  well-turned  phrases,  he  is 
advancing  towards  the  attitude  of  the  early  classicists. 

For  the  last  play  of  this  first  series,  Lisandre  et  Caliste,  Du  Ryer 
got  his  plot,  not  only  from  a  contemporary,  as  in  the  case  of  Argenis, 
but  from  one  who  wrote  in  French  and  laid  his  scene  in  modern 
France.  The  source  is  the  Histoire  tragi-comique  de  notre  temps, 
Paris,  1615,  by  Henry  d'Audiguier,  republished  at  Ley  den  in  1650 
as  Histoire  des  amours  de  Lysandre  et  de  Caliste.  Du  Ryer  showed 
a  greater  power  of  selection  here  than  in  his  previous  works, 
in  which  he  had  dramatized  most  of  the  incidents  found  in  his 
sources,  for  he  passed  over  the  first  five  of  the  ten  books  that 
compose  the  romance,  omitting  the  beginning  of  the  love  affair 
between  Lisandre  and  Caliste  and  its  progress  up  to  the  former's 

1  Argenis  et  Poliarque,  V,  2. 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  51 

return  from  Spain,  as  well  as  the  events  that  immediately  preceded 
the  death  of  Cleandre.  He  utilized  the  events  of  the  last  five 
books,  following  their  general  order  and  making  some  omissions. 

The  play  begins  with  a  combat  between  Lisandre  and  two  of 
his  enemies,  whom  he  slays  one  after  the  other.  Obliged  to  flee 
from  justice,  he  tells  Caliste  farewell  and  is  aided  by  her  husband, 
Cleandre,  to  escape.  A  more  serious  charge  is  soon  brought  against 
him,  for  a  certain  Leon,  surprised  in  Caliste's  bed-chamber,  slays 
Cleandre  with  Lisandre 's  sword,  which  he  has  picked  up  on  the 
duelling  ground.  Caliste,  whose  relations  with  Lisandre  are  not 
criminal,  is  not  to  blame  for  Leon's  presence  in  her  room,  as  he 
was  introduced  there  by  her  maid,  who  believed  that  her  mistress 
would  be  away  that  night.  Nevertheless,  the  fact  of  Lisandre's 
intimacy  with  Caliste,  the  false  accusation  brought  against  him 
by  the  maid,  the  discovery  of  his  sword  in  the  room,  and  his 
disappearance  make  it  appear  that  he  and  Caliste  are  guilty  of 
Cleandre's  murder. 

The  second  act  begins,  like  the  seventh  book  of  the  romance, 
with  Caliste  imprisoned  in  the  chastelet  and  Lisandre  trying  to 
get  her  out.  This  he  does  by  bribing  the  jailer  and  a  butcher, 
whose  house  faces  the  prison.  Just  before  he  takes  her  out  of 
prison,  we  have  a  scene  worthy  of  a  comedy  of  manners  and  con- 
trasting pleasantly  with  the  romantic  incidents  that  precede  and 
follow  it.  The  butcher  objects  to  Lisandre's  frequent  visits  to 
his  house,  which  may  cause  gossip.  His  wife  reminds  him  of  the 
money  they  gain  from  these  visits,  but  he  insists  upon  the  danger: 

"Si  quelqu'un  s'appercoit 
Que  nous  fauorisons  le  dessein  qu'il  congoit, 
le  crains  d'en  receuoir  du  reproche  et  du  blasme, 
Et  qu'on  mette  au  cachot  gros  guillaume  et  sa  femme : 
A  ne  t'en  point  mentir  et  sans  en  rien  celer 
C'est  la  le  vray  moyen  d'aller  mourir  en  1'air, 
Quelque  somme  d'argent  qui  nous  soit  asseure*e 
Bon  renom  vaut  bien  mieux  que  ceinture  doree." 

Lisandre  interrupts  them  disguised  as  a  tirelayne  and  is  at  first 
told  to  be  off,  but  he  brings  the  butcher  round  by  telling  him  his 
name  and  giving  him  a  chain.  The  butcher,  in  spite  of  his  wife's 
scoffing,  remarks : 

"Get  homme  a  dans  I'humeur  ie  ne  sgay  quoy  d'aimable 
Qui  me  charme  1'esprit  et  me  rend  plus  traitable." 


52  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

This  scene  has  the  characteristics  of  the  farce:  the  domestic 
quarrel,  the  mention  of  Gros  Guillaume, x  the  introduction  of 
the  lower  classes,  the  location  in  the  streets  of  Paris,  the  maxims, 
common  sense,  and  avarice  of  the  husband,  the  wife's  shrewdness 
and  her  partiality  to  the  noble  lover.  It  is  probably  inspired 
largely  by  contemporary  farces  rather  than  by  the  romance,  which 
suggests  the  incident,  but  treats  it  gravely. 

Caliste  is  now  brought  out  of  prison  and  taken  home,  where 
her  mother  receives  her  joyfully,  but  her  father  with  misgivings, 
for  he  fears  the  laws.  Du  Ryer  omits  the  lovers'  trip  to  Belgium 
and  minor  events  of  the  eighth  book.  Adraste,  father  of  Lisandre, 
bids  him  cease  his  adventurous  life  and  marry  Hippolite,  who 
loves  him  well.  This  command  produces  a  struggle  between  love 
and  duty: 

"Quay  [sic]-ie  enfin  resolu?  la  nature  a  son  tour 
Me  parle  de  respect,  et  Caliste  d'amour. " 

He  decides  in  favor  of  Caliste,  but,  when  he  is  with  Hippolite, 
he  encourages  her  to  believe  that  he  loves  her  and  thus  gets  his 
father's  permission  to  his  going  to  court.  The  news  is  brought 
that  he  is  pardoned  for  the  death  of  one  of  his  enemies  and  may 
fight  in  single  combat  to  prove  his  innocence  in  the  case  of  the 
second,  after  which  he  will  still  have  to  answer  for  Cleandre's 
murder.  But  before  Lisandre  hears  this,  he  leaves  for  a  tourna- 
ment in  England. 

The  fourth  act  is  concerned  with  the  combat  to  prove  Li- 
sandre's  guilt  or  innocence.  The  challenger,  Lucidan,  presents 
himself  before  the  king  and  the  court,  but  Lisandre  is  still  absent. 
Then  Adraste,  Caliste,  and  Hippolite  arrive,  each  wearing  armor 
and  unrecognized.  The  casting  of  lots  decides  that  Hippolite 
shall  fight  for  Lisandre  against  Lucidan,  and  she  does  so  until  a 
certain  Beronte  arrives  with  proof  of  Lisandre's  innocence  in 
regard  to  the  duel.  The  king  pardons  him  for  everything  except 
the  murder  of  Cleandre  and  the  fight  ends.  When  Hippolite 
takes  off  her  helmet,  she  causes  general  admiration  and  Lucidan 
falls  in  love  with  her.  Caliste,  sure  that  she  is  her  successful 
rival,  retires  from  the  field  with  thoughts  of  suicide.  Meanwhile 
Lisandre,  delayed  by  a  shipwreck  on  his  way  home,  discovers  Leon 
weeping  over  his  treachery  in  a  "desert  affreux "  and  prevails  upon 
him  to  accompany  him  to  Paris. 

1  Stage  name  of  the  celebrated  actor,  Robert  Gue'rin. 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  53 

In  the  fifth  act  Hippolite,  again  disguised  by  her  helmet,  is  taken 
by  Lisandre  for  Caliste,  and  is  thus  informed  that  her  own  love  for 
him  is  hopeless.  She  reveals  her  identity  and  upbraids  Lisandre 
for  inconstancy,  but  she  admits  Caliste's  superior  attractions  and 
consoles  herself  by  accepting  Lucidan.  Before  this  is  done,  prepa- 
rations are  made  for  a  second  combat,  which  is  avoided  only  by 
Leon's  confession.  Lisandre,  thus  acquitted  of  Cleandre's  murder, 
is  united  to  Caliste,  and  Hippolite  weds  Lucidan.  A  ridiculous 
lovers'  quarrel  at  the  end  of  the  original  is  happily  omitted. 

A  series  of  adventures,  loosely  joined  by  an  interest  in  the 
safety  and  marriage  of  the  lovers,  constitutes  the  matter  of  the  play. 
None  of  the  unities  are  preserved.  The  location  in  almost  con- 
temporary France  is  noteworthy.  The  stage  setting  is  elaborate, 
as  the  following  citation  from  Mahelot1  shows: 

"II  faut,  au  Milieu  du  theatre,  Le  petit  chastelet  de  la  Rue  de 
Sainct  Jacques  et  faire  paroistre  Vne  rue  ou  sont  Les  bouchers,  et  de 
la  Maison  dun  boucher  faire  Vne  fenestre  qui  soit  vis  a  vis  dune 
Autre  fenestre  grille'e  pour  la  prison,  ou  lisandre  puisse  parler  a  Caliste. 
il  faut  que  cela  soit  cach£  durant  le  Premier  Acte,  et  Ion  ne  faict 
paraistre  cela  quau  Second  Acte  et  se  referme  Au  Mesme  Acte.  La 
fermeture  sert  de  Palais.  A  Vn  des  costez  du  theatre,  vn  hermitage 
sur  Vne  Montaigne,  et  Vn  antre  Au  dessoubs,  dou  sort  Vn  hermitte; 
delautre  cost£  du  theatre,  il  faut  Vne  chambre  ou  Ion  entre  par  der- 
rierre  esleue'e  de  deux  ou  trois  Marches;  des  Casques,  des  bourguinottes, 
des  rondaches,  des  trompettes  et  Vne  espe"e  qui  se  demonte,  il  faut 
aussy  Vne  Nuict. " 

Like  Argenis,  the  play  is  full  of  movement  and  appeal  to  the 
romantic  imagination.  There  are  duels,  an  assignation,  a  murder, 
an  escape  from  prison,  two  trials  by  combat,  disguises,  and  recog- 
nitions. In  the  last  scene  the  king  strikes  a  patriotic  note  by 
referring  to  the  victories  of  '  'nos  premiers  Rois. "  It  is  unnecessary 
to  dwell  on  the  improbability  of  many  situations  or  the  slight 
attempt  at  characterization.  Lisandre  is  weak  in  the  presence 
of  his  father  and  Hippolite,  and  seems  unable  to  accomplish  any- 
thing for  himself  after  the  first  two  acts.  Caliste,  like  Aretaphile 
a  married  heroine,  mourns  for  her  dead  husband  and  her  absent 
lover,  but  she  shows  no  conflict  in  her  soul  between  duty  and 

1  Memoire,  folio  13  v°  and  14.  The  design  that  accompanies  this  has  been  re- 
produced in  the  Archives  de  I' Academic  Nationals  de  Musique  and  in  Petit  de  Julle- 
ville's  Histoire  de  la  langue  et  de  la  litterature  franc,aise,  iv,  354.  Cf .  also  Exp.  Univ. 
de  1878.  Catalogue  du  ministere  de  V instruction  publique  des  cultes  et  des  beaux-arts, 
Paris,  1878,  and  Rigal,  Alexandre  Hardy,  Paris,  1889,  681. 


54  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

love.  In  the  last  part  of  the  play  she  is  no  more  important  than 
Hippolite,  who  is  a  more  modern  likeness  of  Gamier' s  militant 
Bradamante.  Some  effort  is  made  to  characterize  Caliste's 
canny  father  and  affectionate  mother  as  well  as  the  comic  persons 
of  the  second  act.  By  virtue  of  its  comic  scenes  and  the  success 
with  which  Du  Ryer  reduces  a  large  amount  of  material  to  com- 
paratively orderly  form,  it  is  the  most  creditable  of  his  early 
tragi-comedies. 

The  subordinate  r61e  of  Clarinde,  the  heroine's  maid,  deserves 
special  notice.  Since  she  is,  as  far  as  I  know,  the  first  suivante 
on  the  French  stage,  her  appearance  marks  the  change  from  the 
stiff  and  conventional  nurse,  inherited  from  Seneca,  to  the  young 
female  attendant,  with  her  attractive  personality  and  her  love 
affairs.  The  importance  of  the  substitution  is  shown  by  Corneille 
in  the  Examen  to  his  Galerie  du  Palais,  where  he  writes : 

"Le  personnage  de  nourrice,  qui  est  de  la  vieille  come*die,  et  que 
le  manque  d'actrices  sur  nos  theatres  y  avoit  conservoit  jusqu'alors, 
afin  qu'un  homme  le  put  repre*senter  sous  le  masque,  se  trouve  ici 
metamorphos^  en  celui  de  suivante,  qu'une  femme  repre'sente  sur  son 
visage."1 

This  passage  has  been  taken  to  mean  that  Corneille  was  the  first 
French  author  to  introduce  the  suivante,  but  it  is  evident  that 
Du  Ryer  preceded  him  in  this  respect  by  about  three  years. 

In  these  five  plays  Du  Ryer  pleases  the  popular  taste  and 
gains  a  certain  mastery  in  his  art,  but  his  work  is  more  important 
in  tendency  than  achievement.  The  subjects  are  chosen  from 
romantic  stories  as  crowded  with  events  as  they  are  lacking  in 
the  study  of  manners  and  character.  As  the  audience  is  assured 
by  the  name,  tragi-comedy,  that  the  lovers  will  be  finally  happy, 
there  is  little  terror  or  pity  excited  by  their  temporary  misfor- 
tunes. Admiration  is  roused  by  fidelity  in  love  or  by  feats  of 
physical  prowess,  not  by  a  sterner  adherence  to  duty  or  ambition. 

Aretaphile  taught  Du  Ryer  to  expand  a  brief  tale  into  a  full- 
length  play;  Clitophon,  to  contract  his  source  and  express  in 
dialogue  what  had  been  told  as  a  story ;  Argenis  and  Lisandre  et 
Caliste,  to  begin  his  plot  in  the  middle  and  expose  the  previous 
events  in  the  dialogue,  as  well  as  to  omit  the  unessential.  He 
learns  to  keep  his  hero  and  heroine  before  the  audience  and 
to  create  interesting  situations.  But  he  still  starts  his  plays  too 

1  Cf.  edition  of  Marty-Laveaux,  Paris,  1862,  it,  14. 


EARLY  TRAGI-COMEDIES  55 

soon  and  introduces  unnecessary  persons  into  them.  The  first 
plays  sinned  by  their  succession  of  largely  independent  episodes; 
Lisandre  et  Caliste,  by  the  simultaneous  development  of  several 
plots.  Sentimental  and  narrative  monologues  are  employed  to 
excess.  The  denouement  inArgenis  and  Lisandre  et  Caliste  is  due 
to  chance  discoveries  that  are  almost  equivalent  to  the  intro- 
duction of  a  deus  ex  machind.  In  the  other  plays  the  difficulties 
from  which  the  lovers  escape  in  the  end  are  largely  independent 
of  those  that  confront  them  in  the  beginning,  except  in  so  far 
as  all  difficulties  are  connected  with  the  problem  of  the  lovers' 
marriage.  In  short,  Du  Ryer  is  as  far  from  the  classic  ideal  of 
the  unity  of  action  as  he  is  from  that  of  time  and  place. 

The  characters  are  not  complex.  Interest  centers  in  the  young 
lovers,  the  friends  who  help  and  the  enemies  who  oppose  the 
progress  of  their  love.  The  persons  are  taken  chiefly  from  the 
aristocracy.  The  middle  and  lower  classes  are  represented  by 
attendants,  groups  of  peasants,  or  bands  of  soldiers,  all  lacking 
individuality,  or  occasionally  by  persons  introduced  for  comic 
effect;  but,  in  spite  of  their  subordinate  positions,  they  clear  the 
way  for  the  important  rdle  played  by  the  bourgeoisie  in  the 
Vendanges  de  Suresne.  As  love  is  dominant  in  these  plays  and 
as  fidelity  to  this  emotion  and  valor  in  defense  of  its  objects  are 
the  leading  virtues  represented,  there  is  little  opportunity  for  a 
struggle  between  duty  and  passion  or  between  conflicting  emo- 
tions. Exceptional  cases,  which  predict  the  conflicts  of  Alcion&e 
and  Themistocle,  have  been  noted,  but  nowhere  is  such  a  struggle 
highly  developed  or  made  the  leading  theme  of  the  play. 

The  interest  in  the  spectacular,  which  replaces  the  study  of 
character,  is  shown  in  the  elaborate  setting,  the  use  of  darkness 
and  moonlight,  fireworks,  armed  combats,  royal  palaces  con- 
trasting with  dungeons,  flowers,  trees,  a  mountain,  the  sea,  and 
other  romantic  paraphernalia.  To  these  effects  the  style  cor- 
responds, with  its  misplaced  cleverness,  its  epigrams,  its  occasional 
lyric  and  comic  passages.  There  is  throughout  an  exuberance  of 
superficial  imagination  that  must  be  curbed  before  any  real  pro- 
gress will  be  made  in  the  author's  work.  The  next  chapter  will 
show  how  he  achieved  this  progress  by  developing  certain  tenden- 
cies of  these  early  plays  at  the  expense  of  certain  others. 


CHAPTER  III. 

TRAGI-COMEDIES   OF  THE   MIDDLE  PERIOD,   PASTORAL, 

COMEDY. 

The  five  plays  treated  in  this  chapter  represent  several  genres. 
Alcimedon  and  Clarigene  are  romantic  tragi- comedies,  constructed 
under  classical  influence;  Cleomedon  is  an  heroic  tragi-comedy 
resembling  Du  Ryer's  earlier  plays;  Amarillis  is  a  pastoral; 
the  Vendanges  de  Suresne,  though  related  to  it,  has  sufficient 
comic  elements  to  justify  its  classification  as  a  comedy.  These 
plays  represent  Du  Ryer's  chief  effort  at  painting  manners  and 
developing  comic  situations.  The  stress  is  laid  on  analysis  of 
sentiment  rather  than  variety  of  incident,  but  the  plot  is  still 
of  considerable  importance.  The  group  holds  a  middle  position 
between  the  tragi-comedies  of  his  youth  and  the  tragedies  he 
was  soon  to  write. 

During  Du  Ryer's  life,  Pellisson1  mentioned  Amaryllis  as 
one  of  his  plays,  adding  that  it  had  been  printed  without  the 
author's  consent.  A  pastoral  called  by  this  name  was  printed 
anonymously  in  i65O2  by  Toussainct  Quinet,  who  published 
nothing  else  by  Du  Ryer.  There  seems  no  reason  for  doubting 
that  Du  Ryer  wrote  such  a  play.  The  fact  that  the  edition 
appeared  anonymously  and  issued  from  the  press  of  a  printer  with 
whom  he  had  no  dealings  suggests  that  the  work  is  his.  The 
freres  Parfaict,3  although  they  list  the  piece  under  Du  Ryer's 
name,  doubt  the  authorship  on  the  ground  that  it  is  "mal  con- 
struit,  bassement  versifie,  et  en  me'me-temps  plein  d'obscenites, 
et  d'equivoques  grossieres. "  But  I  do  not  see  that  the  versifi- 
cation is  inferior  to  that  of  his  other  early  plays  and  the  vulgar 

1  Histoire  de  I' Academic  Franfoise,  Paris,  1653,  556. 

2  The  privilege  is  dated  Sept.  26,  1650;  the  acheve  d'imprimer,  Sept.  22,  1650. 
The  fact  that  it  was  printed  before  it  was  licensed  may  have  been  due  to  fear  that  the 
author  would  prevent  the  publication.    The  title-page  is  dated  165 1 .     This  play  has 
been  confused  in  Petit  de  Julleville,  op.  cit.,  iv,  387,  with  a  very  successful  play  of 
the  same  name,  written  by  Tristan  I'Hermite  after  Rotrou's  Celimene. 

3  Histoire  du  thedlre  fran^ois,  vn,  279. 

57 


58  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

passages  are  no  more  frequent  than  was  customary  in  pastorals 
of  the  time.  It  possesses  the  usual  weakness  and  insipidity  of 
the  genre  and  is  no  better  or  worse  than  many  another  pas- 
toral. It  is  impossible  to  deny  the  authorship  on  such  internal 
evidence. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  have  a  means  of  identifying  the  play 
beyond  doubt,  for  Mahelot1  gives  the  properties  and  scenery 
required  for  "Amarillis,  pastorale  de  M.  Durier": 

"II  faut  que  le  Milieu  du  theatre  soit  en  pastoralle  de  verdure  ou 
toille  peinte;  a  Vn  des  costez  du  theatre,  forme  de  Rocher  et  Antre; 
de  lautre  coste",  forme  de  fontaine  coullante  ou  seiche,  et  proche  de 
la  fontaine,  Vn  Antre.  Au  Milieu  du  Theatre,  vn  Arbre  de  verdure. 
Trois  Chappeaux  de  fleurs  et  Vn  bouquet,  dards  et  houllettes. " 

Now  this  is  just  the  setting  required  by  the  play  in  question. 
The  rocks  are  repeatedly  mentioned;  "ces  grottes  sombres" 
and  the  "fontaine"  are  pointed  out  in  the  third  scene  of  the  fourth 
act ;  one  of  the  caves  is  used  conspicuously ;  the  ' '  arbre  de  verdure ' ' 
figures  at  the  end  of  the  work,  when  the  criminals  are  tied  "a 
ce  tronc";  the  bouquet  and  two  chaplets  play  an  important  part; 
and  it  is  probable  that  a  third  chaplet  was  used  in  the  open- 
ing scene  between  Amarillis  and  her  two  lovers.  It  follows 
that  Mahelot,9  independently  of  Pellisson,  testifies  to  the  play's 
authorship.  From  the  evidence  of  these  contemporaries  of  Du 
Ryer,  I  conclude  that  the  play  is  his. 

The  mention  of  Amarillis  at  the  beginning  of  Mahelot's 
Memoir e  indicates  that  it  was  played  as  early  as  1633.  Its 
structure  suggests  that  it  was  written  after  Lisandre  et  Caliste. 
It  is  probable  that  it  was  first  represented  about  1631-1633. 
Nothing  is  known  of  the  reception  it  was  given,  except  what  may 
be  inferred  from  Du  Ryer's  unwillingness  to  have  it  published 
and  the  length  of  time  it  awaited  a  printer. 

M.  Marsan3  states  that  Amarillis  is  an  adaptation  of  Rolland 
Brisset's  Dieromene,*  and  that  this  is  in  turn  an  imitation  of 
Luigi  Grotto's  Pentimento  amoroso. s  As  he  cites  no  evidence  to 

1  Memoire,  fol.  9  v°  and  10. 

•  The  fact  that  Mahelot  fails  to  mention  a  paper,  cord,  and  knife  needed  in  the 
play  does  not  injure  the  force  of  the  evidence,  for  his  lists  are  not  always  complete. 
Cf.,  for  example,  his  requirements  for  Argents  or  Akimedon. 

•  La  pastorale  dramatique,  517. 

«  Tours,  1591  and  1592;  Paris,  1595,  1598,  and  1609. 

•  Venice,  1576. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES    OF  THE    MIDDLE   PERIOD  59 

show  that  Amarillis  is  not  taken  directly  from  the  Italian  and  as 
I  have  been  unable  to  find  a  passage  in  which  Du  Ryer  follows 
Brisset  more  closely  than  Grotto,  it  is  quite  possible  that  Brisset 
had  no  influence  upon  him.  Whether  he  did  or  not,  M.  Marsan 
is  undoubtedly  correct  in  declaring  Grotto's  play  to  be  the  ulti- 
mate source  of  Du  Ryer's,  for  not  only  do  the  two  pastorals  have 
almost  the  same  plot  and  characters,  but  there  are  many  instances 
of  direct  translation  from  Italian  into  French  verse. x  Du  Ryer 
shows  knowledge  of  his  audience  by  eliminating  supernatural 
elements,  omitting  a  useless  shepherdess,  explaining  the  motives 
of  certain  characters,  uniting  the  various  interests  by  a  central 
love-affair,  omitting  certain  scenes  and  shortening  others.  Un- 
fortunately he  complicates  the  already  involved  plot  by  the  addi- 
tion of  two  old  men  and  does  little  to  give  his  characters  greater 
distinction  than  they  had  in  the  original. 

The  plot  chiefly  concerns  Phillidor  and  Amarillis,  crossed  in 
their  love  for  each  other  by  rivals,  who,  in  their  turn,  are  loved 
by  other  despairing  shepherds  and  shepherdesses.  The  faithful 
Phillidor  and  the  fickle  Ergaste  begin  the  play  by  a  long  argument 
as  to  which  is  Amarillis's  successful  lover.  Such  favors  as  Philli- 
dor cites,  a  blush,  the  gift  of  flowers,  are  declared  by  Ergaste  to 
be  evidence  of  her  dislike.  A  fight  is  impending  when  the  heroine 
enters  with  Phenicie  and,  on  learning  the  cause  of  the  dispute, 
gives  her  crown  of  flowers  to  Phillidor,  takes  Ergaste's  from  him, 
and  leaves  them  to  further  discussion.  After  Phillidor  has  also 
left,  his  rival  is  told  by  another  shepherdess,  Calliree,  that  his  love 
for  Amarillis  is  hopeless,  as  the  latter  prefers  Phillidor,  although 
she  is  herself  in  love  with  him. 

The  second  act  introduces  two  old  men  in  scenes  that  are 
typical  of  pastorals,  though  they  do  not  occur  in  the  Pentimento. 
Thelamon,  father  of  Amarillis,  makes  love  to  Phenicie,  daughter 
of  Silvandre,  only  to  be  refused  and  ridiculed  by  both  father  and 
daughter.  This  Phenicie,  we  learn,  is  in  love  with  Ergaste,  who 
not  only  refuses  to  love  her,  but  orders  her  to  help  his  suit  with 
Amarillis.  They  plot  with  Calliree  to  separate  the  hero  and 
heroine  by  means  of  certain  verses  which  Phillidor  has  promised 
to  write  to  Amarillis. 

Their  scheme  is  carried  out  in  the  third  act.  Calliree  gets 
the  verses  through  her  lover,  Alcire,  a  friend  of  Phillidor.  By 

1  Cf .,  for  example,  Pentimento,  I,  I ;  II,  4;  IV,  3,  with  Amarillis,  I,  I ;  II,  2 ;  IV,  7. 


60  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

pretending  that  they  were  written  to  herself,  she  makes  Amarillis 
believe  that  her  lover  has  forsaken  her.  Next  Alcire  convinces 
Phillidor  that  Amarillis  is  unfaithful,  by  asserting  that  she  has 
torn  up  his  poem  and  producing  the  fragments  as  evidence.  The 
lovers  do  not  wait  to  ask  each  other  for  explanations,  but  each 
retires  to  mourn  his  loss  in  the  depths  of  the  forest. 

Meanwhile  neither  Thelamon's  threats  nor  Phenicie's  entrea- 
ties have  prevailed  upon  Amarillis  to  accept  Ergaste,  who  is  in 
consequence  so  angry  with  Phenicie  that  he  directs  his  servant, 
Guillaume,  to  lead  her  into  the  woods  and  murder  her.  He 
promises  Guillaume  a  cup  and  two  sheep,  if  he  will  do  the  deed, 
and  persuades  the  girl  to  accompany  him  by  telling  her  she  shall 
thus  find  a  root  that  acts  as  a  love  potion.  The  scene  at  once 
shifts  to  where  Phillidor  is  listening,  hidden,  to  Amarillis's  lament 
over  the  loss  of  her  lover.1  He  thus  learns  of  her  fidelity, 
while  she  is  assured  of  his  by  overhearing  a  conversation  in 
which  Calliree  and  Alcire  speak  of  the  trick  they  have  played 
them.  Thus  reunited,  Amarillis  and  Phillidor  are  interrupted 
in  the  expression  of  their  joy  by  the  arrival  of  Phenicie  and  Guil- 
laume. The  latter  has  been  touched  by  his  intended  victim's 
devotion  to  Ergaste.  He  bids  her  not  to  make  him  weep  by 
continuing  to  tell  of  her  love  for  her  persecutor.  She  replies 
that,  when  he  pierces  her  heart,  he  must  not  disturb  the  image 
of  Ergaste,  engraved  thereon.  This  conceit  is  too  much  for 
Guillaume.  He  bids  her  leave  him,  promising  to  pretend  to 
his  master  that  he  has  killed  her  and  to  produce  in  evidence 
his  dagger,  reddened  with  the  blood  of  a  sheep.  When  alone, 
Phenicie  retires  to  a  cave,  where  she  discovers  Phillidor  and 
Amarillis. 

The  fifth  act  makes  the  happiness  general.  Calliree  gives  up 
her  hopeless  love  for  Phillidor  and  accepts  Alcire.  Thelamon 
says  that  if  he  can  find  Amarillis  he  will  allow  her  to  marry  whom 
she  pleases.  Presently  a  crowd  bring  Ergaste  and  Guillaume  to 
put  them  to  death,  according  to  forest  law,  in  the  place  where  the 
victim  died.  Ergaste  has  confessed  his  guilt  and  is  full  of  praise 

1 IV,  4.     She  uses  verses  ending  with  the  repetition  of  the  last  syllable  by  an  echo, 
a  common  pastoral  device;  for  example: 

"Qui  me  fera  connoistre 

S'il  me  surnomme  encor  son  coeur  et  son  Soleil? " 

"L'oeil." 


TRAGI-COMEDIES  OF  THE  MIDDLE  PERIOD  61 

for  Phenicie,  but  Guillaume  warns  them  that  they  are  killing 
an  innocent  man  and  begs  for  straw  that  their  bodies  may  not 
be  hurt  in  falling  from  the  gallows.  Then  Amarillis,  Phillidor, 
and  Phenicie  come  out  of  the  cave.  The  latter  secures  Ergaste's 
release  by  promising  to  marry  him.  As  there  is  nothing  left  to 
separate  the  lovers,  the  pastoral  ends  in  a  triple  marriage. 

The  play  contains  three  plots,  two  of  them  taken  from  Grotto. 
The  principal  one,  concerned  with  the  love-making,  quarrel,  and 
reconciliation  of  Phillidor  and  Amarillis,  is  weakly  motivated, 
for  the  easy  deception  of  the  lovers  by  their  rivals'  commonplace 
tricks  is  as  inartistic  as  the  method  of  reuniting  them  by  conver- 
sations overheard  in  the  depths  of  a  forest.  The  second  plot, 
dealing  with  Phenicie's  love  for  Ergaste,  would  be  brutal,  if  it 
were  not  absurd.  If  Ergaste  is  the  monster  he  must  have  been 
to  arrange  the  murder  of  Phenicie,  we  can  not  understand  his 
repentance  or  his  victim's  love  for  him  without  a  far  more  skil- 
ful dialogue  than  that  given.  The  third  plot  is  unnecessary 
and  badly  welded  into  the  play.  Except  to  contrast  a  woman's 
feelings  towards  an  old  lover  and  a  young,  to  increase  Amarillis's 
difficulties  by  giving  her  a  tyrannical  father,  to  add  a  comic 
scene,  in  which  there  is  more  vulgarity  than  wit,  there  seems  to  be 
no  reason  for  this  plot,  with  which  Du  Ryer  complicates  a  story 
that  already  lacked  simplicity. 

The  play  requires  at  least  two  localities  some  miles  apart  in  an 
Arcadian  forest.  Familiar  to  readers  of  pastorals  is  this  country 
of  springs,  trees,  flowers,  and  caves,  governed  by  a  mild  monarch 
and  his  sacrificateur.  His  subjects  are  shepherds,  still  more  refined 
than  their  Italian  originals, 1  and  shepherdesses  from  the  court  of 
Louis  XIII.  They  are  abstractions  representing  successful  or  unre- 
quited love,  love  that  employs  treachery  to  gain  its  end,  love  that 
sacrifices  its  interests  to  the  beloved's  desires.  There  is  no  in- 
tensity in  the  expressions  of  passion.  Some  sensitive  shepherds 
are  easily  made  to  believe  their  mistresses  faithless,  others  readily 
resign  themselves  to  a  new  love  when  they  are  unsuccessful  with 
the  old.  There  are  also  two  fathers,  one  of  whom  laughs  at  the 
other's  love-making,  and  a  servant,  Guillaume,  whose  love  of 
the  bottle  and  comments  on  sexual  relations,  fear  of  Ergaste,  and 
sympathy  for  Phenicie  give  the  play  most  of  its  humor  and  veri- 
similitude. 

1  Cf.  the  quarrel  in  Amarillis,  I,  I,  with  that  in  the  Pentimento,  I,  i  and  5. 


62  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Some  insistence  is  laid  on  the  time  of  the  action,  for  not  only 
are  there  references  to  night  and  midday,  but,  at  the  end,  a 
player  declares  that  love  has  triumphed  three  times  "  dans  1'espace 
d'vn  iour. "  The  style  shows  some  formal  variety  in  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  echo,  in  the  arguments  by  couplets,  and  in  the 
use  of  the  lyric  meters  of  sonnets  and  stances,1  but  the  dialogue 
is  usually  monotonous,  especially  in  the  interpretations  of  signs 
of  love  and  the  laments  of  unhappy  lovers.  The  language  is 
less  picturesque  than  Grotto's,  for  Du  Ryer's  images  are  vague 
or  commonplace.  In  short,  it  is  easy  to  see  why  the  author  did 
not  wish  to  have  the  play  published.  Its  chief  merit  probably 
lies  in  the  preparation  it  gave  him  for  writing  the  similar,  though 
far  more  estimable  Vendanges  de  Suresne. 

Three  of  Du  Ryer's  plays  are  mentioned  in  an  advertisement 
of  the  attractions  found  at  the  H6tel  de  Bourgogne  during  Carni- 
val week,  1634: 

"Allez-y  tout  le  long  de  ceste  quinzaine,  et  vous  n'y  manquerez 
pas  de  rire,  ou  il  faudra  que  vous  ayez  la  bouche  cousue.  Vous  y 
verrez  le  Clitophon  de  Monsieur  Durier,  autheur  de  I'Alcymedon; 
ensuitte  vous  verrez  le  Rossyleon  du  mesme  autheur,  pie*ce  que  tout 
le  monde  juge  estre  un  des  rares  subjects  de  1'Astree  .  .  .  pieces  quy 
sont  autant  d'aimans  attractifs  pour  y  faire  venir  non  seulement  les 
plus  graves  d'entre  les  hommes,  mais  les  femmes  les  plus  chastes  et 
modestes,  quy  ne  veulent  plus  faire  autre  chose  maintenant  que 
d'yaller."a 

The  first  two  of  these  plays  are  known.  The  third,  Philipp3 
declares  to  be  a  lost  play  by  Du  Ryer.  Rigal4  wonders  if  it  is 
the  same  as  Pichou's  unpublished  pastoral,  les  Avantures  de 
Rosileon,  known  only  through  Isnard's  mention  of  it.5  Fournier6 
jumps  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  "refait  apr&s  ce  pauvre 
Pichou"  and  never  printed.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  play  was 
neither  lost,  unpublished,  nor  written  by  another  author.  It  is 
simply  Cleomedon  under  a  different  name,  for  the  latter  play 
is  based  on  the  story  of  Rosileon  in  the  Astree,  a  fact  hitherto 
concealed  by  the  change  of  the  hero's  name.  Du  Ryer  must  have 
brought  out  in  1634  a  P^aY  called  Rossyleon  after  its  hero, 

'CM,  i;III,  i;IV,  3,  4- 

2  L' Ouver lure  des  jours  gras,  Paris,  1634,  reprinted  by  Fournier,  Varietes  historiques, 
Paris,  1855,  ii,  350-352. 

J  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  21.  <  Alexandre  Hardy,  684. 

*  Preface  to  Pichou's  Filis  de  Scire,  Paris,  1631. 

6  Le  thedtre  fran$ais  au  XVI*  et  au  XVII*  siicle,  II,  69. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES   OF  THE    MIDDLE   PERIOD  63 

publishing  it  two  years  later,  and  changing  the  name  of  both  the 
play  and  the  hero  to  Cleomedon,  perhaps  to  avoid  confusion  with 
Pichou's  tragi-comedy  on  the  same  subject.  Fournier's  theory  that 
Du  Ryer  imitates  Pichou  is  valueless.  He  has  no  idea  of  what 
Du  Ryer's  play  is,  for  he  describes  Cleomedon  as  a  new  play  "  d'un 
ton  different"  from  that  of  the  Rossyleon  he  has  just  mentioned. 

There  is  no  doubt,  then,  that  Cleomedon,  as  well  as  Alcimcdon, 
was  known  to  Parisian  audiences  at  Carnival,  1634.  The  former 
play  was  published  in  1636.  As  the  author  declares  in  his  preface 
that  it  was  born  in  Venddme's  house,  it  must  have  been  written 
between  the  end  of  September,  1633,  and  the  end  of  February, 
1634.  The  wording  of  the  advertisement  and  the  fact  that  Cleo- 
medon is  not  mentioned  by  Mahelot,  whose  first  list  was  probably 
completed  just  before  Carnival,  1634,  make  it  highly  probable 
that  it  was  first  played  at  this  time.  It  is  therefore  more  recent 
than  Alcimedon  and  the  Vendanges,  which  figure  in  Mahelot 's 
first  list.  Of  these  last  plays  the  author  tells  us  that  Alcimedon 
is  the  older.  It  probably  came  out  in  1632. 

Alcimedon  was  the  first  play  that  Du  Ryer  dedicated  to  the 
due  de  Venddme,  the  first  published  after  his  marriage  and  while 
he  was  the  duke's  secretary.  It  was  the  first,  also,  in  which  he 
paid  attention  to  the  unity  of  place.  It  is  praised  in  the  preface 
to  Aretaphile,  quoted  above,  and  its  success  is  referred  to  in  the 
dedication  of  the  Vendanges  de  Suresne.  It  is  considered  the 
author's  title  to  fame  in  the  Ouverture  des  jours  gras.  Du  Ryer 
modestly  declares  in  his  dedication,  "alors  qu' 'Alcimedon  receuoit 
de  si  fauorables  applaudissemens,  ie  ne  me  considerois  que  comme 
vn  mauuais  Artisan,  qui  trouue  quelquesfois  par  hazard,  ce  que 
les  plus  grands  Maistres  ne  peuuent  bien  souuent  rencontrer  apres 
vne  longue  experience. " 

The  source  of  the  play  is  Eumathius's  late  Greek  romance, 
De  Hysmines  et  Hysminia  Amoribus,  printed  at  Paris  by  Gaul- 
minus  ini6i7ori6i8  with  both  the  Greek  text  and  a  Latin  trans- 
lation, and  translated  into  French  by  Du  Ryer's  friend  Colletet 
in  1625.  The  tedious  narrative  has  been  greatly  reduced  and 
several  incidents  and  characters  have  been  added.  A  free  hand  is 
used  in  changing  names  and  eliminating  undramatic  and  mar- 
vellous incidents.  The  names  of  the  hero  and  heroine,  which 
suffer  in  the  Greek  from  being  almost  identical,  are  completely 
altered.  The  heroine's  assumed  name  may  be  suggested  by 


64  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

references  in  the  eighth  book  to  Daphne  and  a  city  named  after 
her.  The  name  of  the  hero  seems  derived  from  Vergil's  third 
Eclogue.1  Rodope's  name  is  retained.  She  is  represented  as 
a  widow,  not  as  the  young  daughter  of  Sosthenes.  The  lovers' 
parents  do  not  appear  on  the  stage,  but  the  news  of  their  arrival 
helps  to  bring  about  the  marriage.  The  rdles  of  Nerine,  Tirene, 
and  Tracine  are  added,  as  are  most  incidents  of  the  fourth 
and  fifth  acts.  Du  Ryer  omits  the  heroine's  escape  from  ship- 
wreck on  a  dolphin's  back,  emphasizes  the  events  leading  up  to 
the  lovers'  recognition,  rather  than  the  courtship,  omits  slavery, 
and  introduces  a  new  reason  for  the  lovers'  separation.  The 
similarity  of  the  versions  consists  in  the  fact  that  both  of  them 
concern  lovers  united  after  a  long  separation  despite  change  of 
name  and  country,  the  man's  belief  that  the  woman  is  dead,  and 
the  opposition  of  a  powerful  woman,  named  Rodope,  who  is  in 
love  with  the  hero  and  has  control  of  the  heroine.  In  both 
accounts  Rodope  wooes  the  hero  through  the  heroine,  sending 
him  notes  and  kisses  by  her  without  knowing  that  she  is  her 
preferred  rival,  and  the  lovers  temporarily  escape  detection  by 
pretending  to  be  brother  and  sister.3 

Alcimedon  and  Phenice  loved  each  other  at  their  home  in 
Candia,  till  the  girl's  father,  fearing  the  violence  of  a  powerful 
neighbor,  sent  his  daughter  off  to  live  with  his  brother  in  Cyprus3 
and  circulated  a  report  of  her  death.  Now  called  Daphn6,  she  has 
been  intrusted  by  her  uncle  to  Rodope,  "grande  dame,  veufue, 
amoureuse  de  Scamandre, "  while  he  went  on  a  journey.  This 
Scamandre  is  no  other  than  Alcimedon,  who,  when  the  play 
begins,  has  lately  arrived  in  the  country  and  fallen  in  love  with 
Daphne,  though  he  still  mourns  Phenice.  Nerine,  Daphne's  con- 
fidante, discovers  the  identity  of  Scamandre  and  proves  it  to  the 

1  The  name  Alcimedon  does  not  occur  in  the  editions  of  Gaulminus,  Hercher, 
Hilberg,  Fermin-Didot,  nor  in  the  translations  of  Carani  (1550),  Louveau  (1559), 
or  Colletet  (1625),  but  the  French  analysis  of  the  romance,  published  in  the  Biblio- 
theque  universelle  des  Dames,  Paris,  1785,  iv,  15,  mentions  a  gold  basin  "cise!6  par  le 
divin  Alcimedon, "  apparently  a  translation  of  "caelatum  divini  opus  Alcimedontis, " 
Eclogue  in,  35,  36.  The  fact  that  Du  Ryer  gives  his  hero  the  name  which  occurs 
in  this  eighteenth  century  adaptation  of  Eumathius,  but  not  in  the  Greek  original, 
suggests  that  he  found  it  added  under  Vergil's  influence  to  some  edition  of  the  romance 
which  I  have  been  unable  to  discover. 

'The  similarity  between  Alcimedon  and  the  romance  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  is 
explained  by  the  fact  that  De  Hysmenes  et  Hysminia  Amoribus  is  an  imitation  of 
this  novel. 

^  For  the  place  cf.  I,  3. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES  OF  THE  MIDDLE  PERIOD  65 

heroine  by  means  of  a  lock  of  her  hair,  which  the  lover  has  pre- 
served.    In  comic  fashion  she  mystifies  Scamandre  : 

Pour  te  dire  en  vn  mot  ce  que  tu  dois  aprendre, 

Vn  riual  a  caus£  la  peine  de  Scamandre. 
Sc. :  Vn  riual !  di-le  moy. 

N. :  Mais  Daphn<§  1'ayme  bien. 

Sc.:  S'il  veut  garder  son  coeur,  il  faut  qu'il  ait  le  mien. 
N.:    Mais  tu  1'ayme  [sic]  Scamandre  a  1'egal  de  toy-mesme. 
Sc. :  II  est  mon  ennemy  si  ma  maistresse  1'ayme. 

Mais  ou  puis-ie  trouuer  ce  glorieux  riual 

Qui  rec.oit  le  secours  que  Ion  doit  a  mon  mal? 

Nerine,  di-le  moy,  rend  ma  rage  contante, 

le  veux  auoir  son  sang,  si  ie  n'ay  son  amante. 

Ou  puis-ie  le  trouuer,  Nerine  di-le  moy. 
N. :    Tous  les  iours,  a  toute  heure,  il  est  auecques  toy.  MI 

When  Nerine  has  explained  the  situation  to  him  and  left  the 
lovers  together,  the  play,  though  now  only  in  the  fourth  scene  of  the 
second  act,  seems  about  to  end,  but  it  is  discovered  that  Rodope 
is  herself  in  love  with  Scamandre  and  will  refuse  her  consent  to 
his  marriage  to  her  ward.  To  avoid  difficulty,  the  lovers  pretend 
to  be  brother  and  sister,  a  plan  which  at  first  deceives  Rodope, 
who  hopes  to  use  the  sister  to  attract  the  brother.  A  further 
complication  is  begun  by  a  certain  Tyrene,  "gentilhomme  de 
Rodope, "  who  makes  love  unsuccessfully  to  Daphn6.  But  while 
Daphne  is  gladly  carrying  kisses  from  Rodope  to  Scamandre, 
Nerine,  ignorant  of  the  lovers'  stratagem,  tells  Rodope  that  they 
are  "parfaits  amants"  and  thus  changes  the  comedy  to  a  drama  of 
jealousy  and  hatred.  Rodope  expresses  her  wrath  like  a  tragic 
heroine: 

"La  plus  prompte  vengeance  est  tousiours  la  plus  douce; 
La  cole"re  se  perd  dans  le  retardement, 
Et  qui  se  vange  tost,  se  vange  doublement. 
Entreprens,  ose  tout,  passe  iusques  aux  crimes 
Donne  a  ta  passion  de  sanglantes  victimes, 
Et  montre  qu'une  femme  a  rarement  appris 
A  souffrir  sans  vengeance  un  si  lache  me'pris."* 

She  accordingly  makes  Tyrene  promise  to  obey  her  in  the 
performance  of  a  certain  duty  and  then  tells  him  that  this  duty 

« II,  3-  •  Hi,  4- 


66  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

is  the  murder  of  Daphne.  Refusing  explanations,  Rodope  bids 
him  drown  Daphne  in  the  pond  and  leaves  him  in  order  to  send 
Daphne  to  him.  Tyrene,  however,  instead  of  carrying  out  this 
order,  informs  the  girl  of  all  that  has  happened.  She  thanks  him 
warmly  and  bids  him  escort  her  to  Nerine's  house,  but  is  overheard 
by  Scamandre,  who  at  once  concludes  that  Daphne  is  false  to  him 
and  in  love  with  Tyrene.  Nerine  seizes  the  opportunity  to  advise 
Scamandre  to  give  up  Daphne  for  the  widow.  Rodope,  now  full  of 
remorse,  sends  a  messenger  to  prevent  the  execution  of  Daphne 
and  a  second  to  save  Scamandre  from  assassins  employed  by  one 
of  her  retainers,  who  believed  him  to  be  her  enemy.  After  a  scene 
in  which,  like  Hermione,  she  reproaches  the  supposed  assassin  for 
carrying  out  her  orders,  she  learns  that  Daphne1  is  safe,  but  she  still 
fears  for  the  life  of  Scamandre. 

The  scene  changes  to  the  woods,  presumably  not  far  from 
Rodope's  dwelling.  Daphne,  who  is  leaving  the  forest  with 
Nerine,  sees  Geron  about  to  slay  Scamandre.  By  pretending  to 
be  exceedingly  angry  with  her  lover,  she  persuades  Geron  to  let 
her  kill  him.  She  then  hands  over  to  Scamandre  the  sword  she 
has  obtained  from  his  enemy  and  he  speedily  puts  the  latter  and 
his  assistants  to  flight.  Daphne  thus  not  only  saves  her  lover's  life, 
but  proves  her  fidelity  to  him,  while  this  incident  together  with 
her  own  escape  has  so  moved  Rodope  that  she  is  now  ready  to 
consent  to  her  marriage  to  Scamandre,  the  more  readily  as  Daphn6 
reminds  her  of  an  old  promise  she  has  made  to  marry  her  to  Alci- 
medon  when  he  should  be  discovered. 

Tyrene  alone  remains  to  be  satisfied.  He  claims  Daphne1 
as  his  bride  and  even  asserts  that  she  has  promised  him  her 
hand,  but  he  is  finally  forced  to  give  up  his  demand  by  news  of 
the  arrival  of  the  lovers'  fathers,  just  escaped  from  a  shipwreck. 
They  bless  the  marriage  and  report  that  the  king  is  interested 
in  its  accomplishment.  As  this  marriage  was  decided  before  their 
arrival  except  for  the  consent  of  Tyrene,  which  was  not  really 
necessary,  the  fathers  can  scarcely  be  considered  gods  from  the 
machine.  They  contribute  to  the  general  joy  rather  than  to  the 
working  out  of  the  plot. 

The  two  most  noteworthy  things  about  this  play  are  its 
comparative  simplicity  of  structure  and  the  presence  of  comic 
elements.  The  events  take  place  within  twenty-four  hours  and 
all  the  places  can  be  represented  simultaneously  without  great 


TRAGI-COMEDIES  OF  THE  MIDDLE  PERIOD  67 

stretching  of  the  imagination.     The  simplicity  of  the  mise  en 
seine  is  indicated  by  Mahelot1: 

"Pour  la  decoration  il  faut  faire  Vn  beau  lardin  de  compartimens, 
pallissades,  Arbres,  fruits,  fleurs,  et  passage  dans  Ledit  lardin  pour 
Vne  Reyne  qui  sy  promeine;  de  lautre  cost£  du  theatre  il  faut  Vne 
grotte  et  bois  de  haute  futaye;  plus,  deux  Maisons  fort  belles  comme 
colomnes,  frise,  ballustres  au  caprice  du  feinteur;  il  faut  pour  la  piece 
des  fleurets. ' ' 

This  concentration  in  space  and  time  affects  the  action,  which 
is  no  longer  the  loose  succession  of  episodes  that  composed  the 
earlier  plays.  It  is  true  that  there  is  an  introductory  plot  end- 
ing in  the  recognition  of  the  lovers  in  the  middle  of  the  second 
act,  and  that,  from  that  time  on,  the  course  of  the  love-affair  is 
impeded  by  the  jealousy  of  Rodope,  the  resistance  of  Tyrene,  the 
supposed  unfaithfulness  of  Daphne,  and  the  attempt  to  assassi- 
nate Scamandre.  But  the  last  incident  serves  to  explain  Daphne's 
fidelity  and  helps  to  win  Rodope.  As  soon  as  the  widow's  consent 
to  the  marriage  is  gained,  the  struggle  is  at  an  end.  There  are 
three  threads  in  the  main  portion  of  the  plot,  which  are  bound 
together,  not  closely  enough  for  classic  unity  of  action,  but  suf- 
ficiently to  give  the  play  much  more  unity  than  its  predecessors 
possessed. 

There  is  a  mingling  of  tones.  The  opening  scenes  are  largely 
comic.  Rodope's  delight  at  finding  that  the  lovers  are  brother 
and  sister,  her  use  of  her  rival  to  send  kisses  to  the  man  she  loves, 
Daphne's  rescue  of  her  lover,  and  the  denouement  are  all  worthy  of 
comedy.  The  position  of  the  persons  is  no  longer  royal  or,  with 
the  exception  of  Rodope,  even  noble.  In  much  of  the  play 
there  is  a  bourgeois  atmosphere  that  suggests  the  Vendanges  de 
Suresne.  At  the  same  time,  Rodope's  jealous  efforts  at  vengeance, 
her  remorse,  Tyrene's  threats,  and  the  attempt  to  assassinate  the 
hero  add  the  tragic  situations  that  give  the  play  its  double  nature. 

The  number  of  characters  is  reduced  to  eight,  as  in  many 
classic  tragedies.  Tracine,  Geron,  and  Philante,  the  hero's  friend, 
fill  very  subordinate  rdles.  Tyrene,  the  unsuccessful  lover,  and 
Nerine,  the  comic  go-between,  are  familiar  types  that  do  not  call 
for  comment.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  Daphn6  is  more  heroic 
than  her  lover,  for  she  shows  herself  constant,  brave,  resourceful, 

1  Fol.  70  v. 


68  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

while  he  easily  loses  confidence  in  her,  and  does  nothing  to  rid 
her  of  Tyrene  and  little  to  escape  from  Rodope.  The  latter 
is  the  most  interesting  character  of  the  play.  So  completely 
is  she  carried  away  by  love,  jealousy,  and  remorse  that  she  is 
easily  deceived  and  quickly  decides  on  deeds  of  cruelty.  Yet  she 
is  naturally  kind,  able  to  judge  correctly  and  to  sacrifice  her  own 
interests  to  those  of  others.  She  resembles  Melite  in  Clitophon, 
whom  Du  Ryer  must  have  had  in  mind  when  he  portrayed  her. 
Her  character,  like  that  of  others  in  this  play,  is  bettered  by 
the  more  concentrated  study  that  Du  Ryer  gives  the  persons  of 
his  maturer  pieces. 

The  dedication  to  the  Vendanges  de  Suresne,  addressed  to  the 
Duke  of  Venddme,  speaks  of  the  play  as  the  younger  brother  of 
Alcimedon,  "qui  receut  il  ny  a  pas  long  temps  un  si  glorieux 
accueil  de  votre  grandeur."  The  privilege  to  print  is  dated 
April  26,  1635;  the  acheve  d* imprinter,  November  16  of  the  same 
year.  The  mention  of  this  play  in  Mahelot's  first  list  and  the 
fact  that  it  followed  Alcimedon  make  it  probable  that  it  was  first 
played  in  1633.  The  fact  that  Dancourt  in  1695  used  the  title1 
for  a  comedy  of  his  own  shows  that  at  that  time,  though  the  name 
had  survived  among  writers,  Du  Ryer's  play  had  ceased  to  be 
known  to  the  public.  The  work  was  republished  by  Fournierin 
his  Theatre  fran$ais  au  xvie  et  au  xvil9  si&cle.2 

The  play  resembles  Amarillis.  The  outdoor  setting,  the 
supposedly  rustic  characters  who  have  the  refinement  of  the  upper 
classes,  the  lovers  crossed  by  tricky  rivals  and  self-seeking  parents, 
the  use  of  notes,  disguise,  concealment,  the  heroine's  enlevement 
and  the  hero's  rescue  of  her,  the  double  marriage  at  the  end,  all 
suggest  the  pastoral  type.  In  the  treatment  of  the  characters, 
the  plot,  and  the  use  of  names  there  is  a  close  likeness  to  Amarillis. 
Dorimene,  Polidor,  Guillaume,  the  lovers  and  the  servant  of  the 
Vendanges,  are  not  unlike  Dieromene,  heroine  in  the  Pentimento, 
source  of  Amarillis,  Phillidor  and  Guillaume,  hero  and  servant  in 
Amarillis.  When  the  Vendanges  was  written,  Du  Ryer  probably 
had  his  own  and  other  pastorals  in  mind,  but,  instead  of  following 
them  closely,  he  eliminated  to  a  great  extent  the  tragic  develop- 
ments found  in  them,  and  sought  especially  to  describe  contem- 
porary manners  and  create  comic  situations,  thus  justifying  his 
classification  of  the  play  as  a  comedy. 

1  There  is  no  other  similarity  between  the  two  plays.  *  n,  68-142. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES   OF  THE   MIDDLE  PERIOD  69 

As  the  title  indicates,  the  stage  represents  Suresne  at  the  time 
of  grape-gathering.  Mahelot's  requirements1  for  the  mise  en 
scene  are  noteworthy: 

"  Au  Milieu  du  theatre,  il  faut  faire  paraitre  le  bourg  de  Surene,  et 
au  bas  faire  paraitre  la  riuiere  de  Seine,  et  aux  deux  costes  du  theatre, 
faire  paraitre  forme  de  paysage,  Loingtain,  garny  de  Vigne,  raisins, 
arbres,  noyers,  peschers,  et  autre  Verdure,  plus  faire  paraitre  le  tertre 
au  dessus  de  Sur&ie  et  Ihermitage;  Mais  au  deux  costes  du  theatre,  il 
faut  plante  des  vignes,  facon  de  bourgogne,  peinte  Sur  du  carton  tail!6e 
a  jour;  il  faut  Vne  hote  de  vandangeur  pleine  de  raisins  et  fueilles  de 
vigne;  il  faut  deux  paniers,  deux  eschalas,  Vne  serpette,  et  trois  lettres; 
en  la  Saison  du  raisin,  il  en  faut  auoir  cinq  ou  six  grappes  pour  la 
feinte." 

We  are  no  longer  in  an  imaginary  country  of  extraordinary 
customs ;  we  are  near  Paris,  in  surroundings  familiar  to  the  author 
and  his  audience.  It  is  refreshing  to  hear  the  heroine  refer  to  the 
Seine  instead  of  the  Lignon  or  the  Styx.  There  is  talk  of  Auteuil 
and  Longchamp  and  of  literary  and  social  customs  of  the  day, 
though  the  leading  persons  remain  those  of  the  pastoral. 

Polidor  and  Dorimene  see  their  love  hindered  by  the  tricks  of 
Tirsis  and  Florice,  their  respective  rivals.  By  means  of  his  wealth 
Tirsis  brings  Dorimene's  father,  Crisere,  to  look  with  favor  on 
his  suit  and  seeks  to  make  Polidor  believe  that  Dorimene  does 
not  love  him.  Polidor  soon  learns  the  contrary  from  his  lady's 
lips,  but  he  also  hears  that  Crisere  has  discovered  their  love 
through  Florice  and  has  forbidden  his  daughter  to  have  any 
further  communication  with  him.  He  writes  verses,  however, 
to  Dorimene,  addressed  to  an  imaginary  Philis,  and  by  this  subter- 
fuge succeeds  not  only  in  keeping  his  sweetheart's  affection,  but 
in  proving  the  treachery  of  Tirsis,  who  seeks  to  make  Dorimene 
give  up  Polidor  by  reporting  to  her  that  he  is  in  love  with  Philis 
At  last  Crisere  is  won  over  by  the  timely  death  of  a  rich  uncle, 
who  leaves  his  fortune  to  Polidor,  while  Tirsis  retires  after  a  duel 
with  his  rival.  Then  the  news  comes  that  Dorimene  has  been 
carried  off  by  a  young  noble,  who  takes  the  place  of  the  pastoral 
satyr.  Polidor  and  Tirsis  quickly  rescue  her,  and  the  latter, 
having  thus  atoned  for  his  past  treachery,  is  married  to  Florice, 
while  Polidor  weds  the  heroine. 

This  slight  plot,  which  lacks  all  unity  except  a  central  interest 
in  the  chief  lovers,  forms  the  background  for  an  interesting  study 

'  Fol.  61  ve. 


7O  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

of  manners.  Except  for  numerous  references  to  the  vintage  and 
certain  expressions  of  antipathy  between  bourgeois  and  nobles, 
the  customs  described  are  those  of  upper  Parisian  society.  There 
are  references1  to  the  "polis  de  ce  temps, "  the  reading  of  novels, 
the  "diuine  Artenice,"*  to  methods  for  securing  a  husband,  to 
contemporary  dances  and  articles  of  dress,  to  the  making  of  bad 
poetry  and  the  criticism  of  good.  I  cite  the  following  lines, 
which  tell  how  to  reach  women's  hearts: 

"II  faut  estre  d'accord  de  tous  leurs  sentimens, 
Approuuer  et  louer  leurs  moindres  ornemens, 
Respecter  vn  collet,  pour  luy  prendre  querelle, 
Auoir  tousiours  en  poche  une  chanson  nouuelle. 
Scauoir  bien  a  propos  ajuster  vn  mimy, 
Distinguer  promptement  le  galand  de  1'amy, 
Dire  quelle  couleur  est  et  fut  a  la  mode, 
Voila  pour  estre  aym6  le  chemin  plus  commode. 
Vn  homme  de  neant,  bien  poly,  bien  fris6, 
Par  ces  rares  moyens  se  void  fauorise, 
Pourueu  qu'il  scache  vn  mot  des  liures  de  1'Astree 
C'est  le  plus  grand  esprit  de  toute  vne  contr6e.  "3 

In  another  place  Du  Ryer  vents  his  spleen  on  dramatic  critics 
by  making  one  of  his  characters  tell  how  he  was  caught  between 
a  number  of  these  "beaux  espris"  at  the  representation  of  an 
excellent  play : 

"Toutesfois  ces  rimeurs,  moins  doctes  qu'enuieux, 
N'y  pouuoient  rien  trouuer  qui  ne  fust  ennuyeux. 
L'vn  faisoit  de  1'habile  (et  pour  moy  ie  m'en  moque), 
L'autre  disoit  tout  haut  cette  rime  me  choque, 
Ce  mot  n'est  pas  Frangois,  et  m'estonne  comment 
On  luy  vient  de  donner  tant  d'applaudissement."4 

The  satirical  spirit  of  these  passages,  which  is  not  without 
suggestions  of  Moli6re,  is  particularly  exemplified  by  Lisete,  a 
halved  Dorine,  who  has  to  a  lesser  degree  the  brightness,  the 
power  of  observation,  the  boldness  of  Moli&re's  inimitable  sui- 
vante,  without  her  sympathy  and  decent  good  sense.  Her  advice 
to  Florice  about  the  number  of  her  lovers  is  worth  quoting  : 

"  Lisete,  me  dit-elle,  en  ce  temps  oft  nous  sommes 
Pour  te  faire  estimer,  n'estime  point  les  hommes ; 
Si  tu  veux  toutesfois  approuuer  leur  amour, 
Ayme  deux,  trois  amans,  et  faits-en  chaque  iour; 

'CM,  2,  4,  6;  II,  3;  III,  2.  'Mme  de  Rambouillet.  » I,  I.          *  III,  2. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES   OF  THE   MIDDLE   PERIOD  7! 

N'aye  point  d'autres  soings  que  pour  ce*t  exercice, 
Pour  y  mieux  reussir  cmprunte  1'artifice, 
On  ne  peut  trop  auoir  de  ces  biens  inconstans 
Dont  la  perte  se  fait  tousiours  en  peu  de  temps."1 

The  comic  elements  of  the  play  are  not  confined  to  a  satirical 
study  of  manners.  There  are  at  least  four  characters  whose 
chief  purpose  is  to  amuse  the  audience.  Of  these  Lisete,  the 
suivante,  has  just  been  referred  to.  A  match  for  her  is  found  in 
Guillaume,  servant  to  Polidor,  closely  akin  to  his  namesakes  in 
Amarillis  and  Lisandre  et  Caliste,  though  more  highly  devel- 
oped than  either  of  these.  His  name,  his  enormous  size,  and  the 
character  of  his  wit  indicate  that  this  part  was  played  by  the  cele- 
brated Gros  Guillaume.  He  jokes  about  his  appetite  for  drink 
and  food,  his  personal  appearance,  his  love  of  money,  and  the 
inferiority  of  women.  The  other  comic  characters  are  Crisere 
and  Doripe,  father  and  mother  of  the  heroine,  the  first  seeking  a 
wealthy,  the  second  a  noble,  son-in-law.  Their  specious  argu- 
ments, the  insults  each  bestows  upon  the  other's  sex,  and  the 
resulting  quarrels  do  much  to  enliven  the  play. 

Occasionally  a  vulgar  wit  is  displayed  by  the  actors,  more 
frequently  it  is  the  dry  and  limited  humor  of  the  practical  man, 
of  Guillaume  when  he  says,  "je  respecte  ceux  dont  je  mange  le 
pain, "  or  of  Crisere  in,  "s'il  scait  garder  son  or,  il  scait  beaucoup 
de  chose. "a  A  number  of  proverbial  expressions  occur,3  such  as, 
"Tor  en  bourse  vaut  mieux  que  le  fer  au  coste, "  "plus  on  a  de 
mets,  plus  on  fait  bonne  chere,"  "  ce  sexe — n'est  bon  qu'en  vn  lit  et 
dans  vn  monument, "  "le  bien  present  vaut  mieux  que  celuy  qu'on 
espere,"  "  vn  vaisseau  plein  de  vent  fait  plus  de  bruit  qu'vn  autre." 
There  are  also  mistakes  and  surprises,  among  which  should  be 
noted  Tirsis's  carrying  his  rival's  love-letter  for  him4  after  the 
fashion  of  Sganarelle  in  the  Ecole  des  Maris.  Finally,  the  incidents 
that  might  make  the  plot  tragic  are  so  quickly  passed  over  that 
the  tone  of  the  play  remains  almost  everywhere  worthy  of  comedy. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  play  is  correctly  classified.  It  is 
evident  that  its  value  lies  in  the  comic  elements  that  mark  its 
type  rather  than  in  the  plot,  which  contains  situations  without 
cause  or  result  and  the  denouement  produced  by  a  deus  ex  machind, 
or  in  the  leading  persons,  who  have  the  inadequate  characteriza- 
tion of  pastoral  plays.  In  its  comic  persons  and  situations,  the 

*II,  4.  *  II,  i  and  5.  » II,  5,4.  5:  IV,  a,  6.  « III,  a. 


72  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Vendanges  still  has  power  to  interest  us.  It  is,  moreover,  an 
important  play  in  the  development  of  French  comedy,  for  Du 
Ryer  was  one  of  the  first  to  see  the  value  for  comedy  of  a  study 
of  actual  conditions  in  their  true  setting.  There  is,  too,  a  conflict 
of  classes  in  Crisere's  putting  wealth  above  birth,  in  Doripe's 
ridiculous  championing  of  aristocracy,  in  the  defeat  of  the  noble 
who  tries  to  carry  off  the  heroine.  We  wonder  at  a  dramatist 
who  depicts  as  early  as  1633  class  pride  in  the  bourgeoisie.  We 
regret  that  he  did  not  venture  further  in  this  effort  at  writing 
realistic  comedy  and  at  anticipating  by  a  generation  the  feelings 
of  Madame  Jourdain. 

I  have  given  the  reasons  for  believing  that  Cleomedon  was 
written  at  the  end  of  1633  or  the  beginning  of  1634,  was  acted  at 
Carnival  of  the  latter  year  under  the  name  of  Rossyleon,  and  was 
published  with  its  present  name  in  I636.1  In  his  dedication  to 
Vend6me,  Du  Ryer  writes,  "Vous  le  connoissez,  puisqu'il  est  n6 
en  vostre  maison,  et  vous  1'auez  tousiours  si  fauorablement  esleu6 
depuis  sa  naissance,  qu'il  ne  peut  plus  passer  pour  incognu 
aupres  de  vostre  Grandeur."  Georges  de  Scudery  testifies  to 
its  popularity2  by  putting  it  among  the  plays  which  he  would 
fain  prove  superior  to  the  Cid,  naming  "les  Sophonisbes,  les 
Cesars,  les  Cleopatres,  les  Hercules,  les  Marianes,  les  Cleomedons, 
et  tant  d'autres  illustres  Heros  qui  les  [les  honn6tes  gens]  ont 
charmls  sur  le  theatre."  Despite  this  praise,  I  can  not  rank  it 
high  among  its  author's  plays,  for,  though  it  has  effective  situa- 
tions and  characters  of  some  individuality,  there  is  mu  h  of  the 
melodrama  about  it,  due  perhaps  to  the  looseness  of  its  structure. 

The  plot  is  taken  from  the  tenth  book  of  the  fourth  part  of 
VAstrie.  The  young  lovers'  names  have  been  changed:  Rosi- 
leon  to  Cleomedon,  Rosanire  to  Celanire,  Celiodante  to  Celiante, 
Cephise  to  Belise.  The  fact  that  these  changes  do  not  affect  the 
rime,3  taken  in  connection  with  the  play's  being  first  called 
Rossyleon,  suggests  the  probability  that  the  names  found  in  the 
Astr6e  were  used  in  the  play  when  it  was  first  acted. 

1  Cf .  above,  pp.  62 ,  63.  The  achevi  d'imprimer  has  the  date  Feb.  2 1 , 1636 ;  the  per- 
mission, that  of  Dec.  31  of  the  same  year,  evidently  intended  for  Dec.  31,  1635, 
as  is  further  shown  by  the  statement  that  it  was  printed  in  the  twenty-sixth  year  of 
Louis  Kill's  reign. 

*  At  the  beginning  of  his  Observations  sur  le  Cid. 

» The  only  exception  is  in  the  name  of  the  unimportant  Verance,  changed  to 
Clorimante.  Cleomedon  occurs  in  rime  once,  Belise  four  times,  Celiante  six  times, 
Celanire  fourteen  times. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES   OF   THE   MIDDLE   PERIOD  73 

Du  Ryer  follows  pretty  closely  the  events  related  by  the 
queen's  knight  in  VAstree.  As  in  Lisandre  et  Caliste,  he  begins 
his  drama  in  the  middle  of  the  story.  He  makes  his  exposition 
largely  by  Queen  Argire's  conversation  in  the  opening  scene. 
Over  twenty  years  before,  she  had  been  seduced,  under  promise 
of  marriage,  by  King  Policandre,  then  visiting  her  father's  court. 
Called  home  suddenly,  he  had  married  another  princess,  while 
she,  after  secretly  bringing  forth  a  son,  Celiante,  had  married  the 
King  of  the  Santons  and  become  the  mother  of  a  second  son. 
As  she  preferred  her  first-born,  she  succeeded  after  a  few  years  in 
substituting  him  for  the  other,  leaving  this  younger  son  to  be 
brought  up  away  from  court.  He  was  lost  during  a  civil  war, 
while  his  older  brother  continued  to  be  regarded  as  the  son  of  the 
King  of  the  Santons.  After  the  death  of  this  monarch,  the 
widowed  queen  sought  the  hand  of  Policandre  and  was  refused. 
Smarting  under  this  new  insult,  she  waged  war  against  her  former 
lover  and  placed  her  son  at  the  head  of  her  army,  so  that  the 
young  prince  was  unwittingly  fighting  against  his  father.  The 
progress  of  the  war  has  reduced  Policandre  to  a  single  city,  where 
he  awaits  help  from  Cleomedon,  a  former  slave,  who  won  his 
freedom  by  saving  Policandre  from  a  lion  and  has  since  distin- 
guished himself  in  battle. 

The  scene,  first  laid  in  Argire's  tent  outside  the  city,  shifts  to 
Policandre's  court,  where  he  is  encouraging  his  daughters  when 
Argire's  confidant,  captured  in  a  sortie,  staggers  in  to  inform  the 
king  of  Celiante's  identity,  but  dies  before  he  can  disclose  the  secret. 
We  now  learn  of  Cleomedon's  arrival  and  the  strength  he  has 
given  the  besieged.  Between  the  first  and  second  acts  he  puts 
the  enemy  to  flight  and  captures  Celiante,  thus  giving  rise  to  the 
chief  struggle  of  the  play,  for  both  victor  and  captive  love  Celanire, 
daughter  of  Policandre,  while  her  sister,  Belise,  falls  in  love  with 
Celiante.  Celanire,  who  loves  the  presumably  low-born  Cleome- 
don, encourages  him  to  believe  that  "qui  conserue  vn  Sceptre  est 
digne  de  1'auoir"  and  that  "qui  vante  ses  ayeux  ne  vante  rien 
de  soy."  Thus  assured  of  her  love,  he  replies,  "Que  ne  domp- 
terois-ie  anime  de  la  sorte?",  giving  just  the  thought  and  some  of 
the  words  used  by  Rodrigue1  under  similar  circumstances: 

"Est-il  quelque  ennemi  qu'  a  present  je  ne  dompte?  .  .  . 
Pour  combattre  une  main  de  la  sorte  anime'e." 

*Cid,V,  i. 


74  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Now  the  king  has  promised  Celanire  to  Cleomedon  as  a  reward 
of  victory,  but  the  state  of  the  heavily  taxed  country  requires 
immediate  peace,  which  can  be  firmly  established  by  the  marriage 
of  this  elder  daughter  to  Celiante.  This  consideration  and  the 
persuasions  of  jealous  courtiers  make  the  king  decide  to  marry 
Celanire  to  Celiante,  compensating  Cleomedon  for  the  loss  of  his 
promised  bride  by  the  gift  of  Belise's  hand.  The  arrangement  is 
vainly  opposed  by  both  Cleomedon  and  Belise.  When  the  former 
reminds  the  king  of  his  promise,  he  is  rebuked  with  the  words 
"Esclaue,  souuiens-toy  que  ie  t'ay  rachept6. "  The  two  prin- 
cesses are  in  despair.  Cleomedon  goes  mad,  repeats  to  himself 
the  phrase  spoken  to  him  by  the  king,  thinks  he  is  beset  by  giants, 
rages  against  the  king  and  his  flatterers,  and  is  calmed  only  by  the 
mention  of  Celanire's  name. r 

The  fourth  act  is  devoted  chiefly  to  these  ravings  and  a  report 
that  Argire  has  died  on  her  way  to  her  son's  marriage.  In  the 
fifth,  an  old  man,  Clorimante,  succeeds  in  obtaining  a  private 
audience  with  Policandre,  after  enduring  the  courtiers'  jests. 
Celanire  is  meditating  suicide  and  Belise  is  trying  to  prevent 
Cleomedon  from  slaying  Celiante,  when  Argire,  escaped  from 
shipwreck,  comes  to  inform  them  that  Celiante  is  the  son  of 
Policandre.  The  king  is  delighted  to  find  his  son,  and  Celanire 
is  still  more  pleased  to  learn  that  she  can  not  marry  Celiante, 
while  the  latter  accepts  the  situation  with  such  equanimity  that 
we  doubt  whether  he  has  been  seriously  in  love. 2 

The  identity  of  Cleomedon,  who  has  regained  his  sanity, 
remains  to  be  established.  Argire  recognizes  Clorimante  as  the 
man  to  whom  she  confided  her  second  son  and  learns  from  him 
that  the  child  was  taken  prisoner  during  the  war,  while  he  was 
himself  sold  as  a  slave  at  Tunis,  whence  he  has  just  returned, 
after  twenty  years.  Policandre  remembers  that  Quinicsoit,  the 
name  given  by  Argire  to  her  son  when  she  was  hiding  him,  was 
the  name  by  which  Cleomedon  was  originally  called.  Finally  a 
laurel-shaped  birth-mark  on  the  hero's  hand  makes  it  certain  that 
he  is  the  lost  son  of  Argire  and  the  King  of  the  Santons.  The 
denouement  is  dramatically  delayed  by  Cleomedon,  who,  brought 
in  for  examination,  expects  to  receive  a  new  insult  and  threatens 


1  For  contemporary  examples  of  mental   derangement   through  disappointed 
love,  cf.  Pichou's  Folies  de  Gardenia,  Corneille's  Mettle,  Mairet's  Sylvie. 
a  For  a  truer  treatment  of  a  similar  situation,  cf.  Du  Ryer's  Berenice. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES   OF  THE   MIDDLE  PERIOD  75 

to  destroy  the  kingdom  he  has  established.  Argire  has  the 
"secret  mouuement, "  common  to  romantic  mothers  when  they 
first  see  a  grown  son,  lost  to  them  in  infancy.  Cleomedon  is  told 
that  he  is  the  queen's  son  and  is  married  to  Celanire.  Belise  is 
given,  according  to  her  desires,  to  Celiante,  as  she  fortunately 
turns  out  to  be  the  step-daughter,  not  the  daughter  of  the  king. 
That  all  past  errors  may  be  righted,  a  third  marriage  is  arranged 
between  the  former  lovers,  Argire  and  Policandre. 

This  plot,  as  I  have  stated,  follows  closely  the  incidents  found 
in  its  source.  There  are  certain  changes  in  the  treatment  of 
Policandre  and  Belise  that  will  be  noted  below.  There  are 
changes  in  arrangement  to  meet  the  requirements  of  the  stage 
and  to  make  the  play  end  satisfactorily  with  the  hero's  recovery 
from  madness.  The  narrative  is  shortened  and  the  events  are 
thrown  into  stronger  relief.  Incidents  are  omitted,  especially 
those  connected  with  the  hero's  youth  and  courtship  and  the 
beginning  of  hostilities  between  Argire  and  Policandre.  Du  Ryer 
leaves  out  the  marvellous,  changing  the  statement  of  an  oracle 
mentioned  in  the  Astree  to  a  falsehood  used  by  the  queen  to  deceive 
her  husband.  He  adds  comic  and  dramatic  situations,  makes  a 
fanciful  change  in  the  hero's  birth-mark,  which  now  resembles  a 
laurel  instead  of  a  rose.  He  is  less  definite  in  the  location  of  his 
play,  for  he  retains  only  the  Santons  and  adds  Tunis,  while  he 
omits  the  names  of  Argire's  nation,  the  Picts,  and  of  Policandre's 
town,  Avaric,  and  people,  the  Boyens  and  Ambarres. 

On  the  other  hand,  all  the  main  events  are  retained  and  the 
characters  remain  substantially  the  same.  There  is  even  close 
verbal  imitation  in  at  least  two  cases.  The  heroine  in  the  Astree 
says,  "I'ayme  mieux  qu'on  raconte  a  1'aduenir  que  Rosanire  a 
trop  obey,  que  si  Ton  pouuoit  dire  qu'elle  eust  manque  a  son 
deuoir;"1  in  Cleomedon, 

"Et  i'ayme  mieux  enfin  que  ce  coeur  soit  blasm£ 
D'auoir  trop  obey,  que  d'auoir  trop  ayme". "a 

Similarly  the  words  that  have  been  quoted  as  addressed  by 
Policandre  to  Cleomedon  when  he  refused  to  give  him  his  daughter 
are  found  in  the  Astree3  as,  " Souuiens-toy  du  prix  duquel  ie  t'ay 
achepte  esclaue. " 

1  x,  850,  851.  » III,  3.  3  x,  1030, 1031. 


76  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

The  closeness  of  the  imitation  results  in  decided  lack  of  unity 
in  the  play.  The  first  act  serves  to  explain  the  war  and  to  intro- 
duce the  characters.  The  audience  is  led  to  believe  that  Argire 
and  Policandre  are  the  chief  persons  and  is  consequently  sur- 
prised not  to  see  the  queen  again  till  the  last  act,  where  she  plays 
the  role  of  the  deus  ex  machind.  The  triple  plot  confuses  the 
action,  which  is  not  simplified  by  the  author's  addition  of  scenes 
intended  purely  to  touch  or  amuse  the  audience.  The  denoue- 
ment, brought  about  by  the  timely  arrival  of  Argire  after  a  ship- 
wreck and  the  return  of  the  nurse  after  twenty  years'  imprison- 
ment, shows  how  little  care  the  author  takes  to  make  the  result 
proceed  from  the  main  events  of  the  play.  The  time  of  the  action 
must  cover  several  months;  the  place  is  in  and  outside  the  walls 
of  Policandre's  city,  covering  about  the  same  amount  of  space  as 
that  used  in  Aretaphile. 

The  incidents  of  the  play  are  thoroughly  romantic.  The  plot 
is  based  on  a  substitution  of  children,  with  the  loss  of  one  of  them 
and  his  subsequent  recognition  by  the  mother's  "secret  mouue- 
ment,"  the  birth-mark,  and  the  opportune  return  of  the  lost  nurse. 
A  confidant  dies  as  he  is  about  to  reveal  the  secret ;  the  hero  goes 
mad ;  one  princess  loves  a  captive,  another  a  slave  who  turns  out 
to  be  a  prince;  a  son  fights  against  his  father  and  his  brother,  a 
second  against  his  brother  and  his  mother. 

Argire  is  a  Cornelian  queen,  who  makes  war  for  the  sake  of 
her  "gloire. "  Madness  adds  variety  to  the  personality  of  Cleo- 
medon,  otherwise  a  typical  hero.  The  king  is  a  politician,  who 
deserts  Argire  and  breaks  his  promise  to  Cleomedon,  allows  him- 
self to  be  influenced  by  courtiers,  is  easily  moved  to  anger  and 
insolence,  but  who  is  a  kindly  father  and  thoughtful  ruler.  His 
action  in  breaking  with  Argire  is  not  explained,  as  in  the  Astree, 
but  here  he  proposes  marriage  to  her  without  waiting  for  a 
courtier's  advice.  Du  Ryer  wisely  refrains  from  making  Belise 
fall  in  love  with  Cleomedon.  Had  he  followed  his  source  in  this, 
he  would  have  confused  the  audience.  Instead,  she  has  fallen  in 
love  with  Celiante  early  in  the  play,  so  that  her  marriage  to  him 
is  of  greater  interest  than  had  it  been  purely  the  matter  of 
compensation  that  it  is  in  the  Astree.  We  are  interested  in  the 
picture  of  contemporary  manners  given  by  the  courtiers,  who 
flatter  the  king,  conspire  against  the  hero,  and  bait  Clorimante  till 
they  see  that  the  king  protects  him. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES  OF  THE   MIDDLE   PERIOD  77 

Du  Ryer  enlivens  his  play  by  the  use  of  comic  scenes,  inter- 
rupted dialogue,  and  rapid  narration.  For  example,  Clorimante 
tells  Argire  of  Cleomedon's  disappearance  as  follows: 

"C:  Ha!  Madame, 

A:  Dy  viste,  est-il  vif?  est-il  mort? 

C:  Ilest. 

A:  Acheue. 

C:  II  est  ce  qu'a  voulu  le  Sort. 

A:  Celiante  n'est  plus. 
C:  le  n'en  sgaurois  rien  dire."1 

Argire  describes  the  beginning  of  her  love  for  Policandre  in  these 
words: 

"Et  comme  vn  ieune  coeur  est  bien-tost  enflamme 
II  me  vid,  il  m'ayma,  ie  le  vis,  ie  1'aimay."2 

Before  producing  his  next  tragi-comedy,  Du  Ryer  had  learned 
from  the  Cid  the  beauty  of  a  struggle  between  two  noble  desires 
and  had  written  two  tragedies  that  are  thoroughly  classic  in 
structure.  We  are  not  surprised,  therefore,  to  find  that  in 
Clarigene  he  deepens  his  study  of  character,  makes  use  of  the 
psychological  struggle,  and  simplifies  his  plot.  This  play  was 
published  in  1639,2  and  was  probably  composed  and  acted  a  year 
or  two  earlier.  It  is  dedicated  to  the  Duke  of  Mercceur,  Ven- 
d6me's  oldest  son.  It  does  not  appear  in  Mahelot,  but,  according 
to  the  author's  statement  in  his  dedication,  it  was  given  "sur  les 
Theatres  auec  assez  d'applaudissemens,  et  n'a  pas  diminu6  1'estime 
qu'vn  peu  de  bonne  fortune  m'a  acquise. " 

The  complete  source  has  not  been  discovered.  The  prominent 
motif  of  the  fourth  act,  a  contest  in  generosity  shown  by  two 
innocent  men,  each  of  whom  insists  that  he  is  guilty  in  order  to 
save  the  other  from  punishment  for  a  crime  which  neither  has 
committed,  finds  a  parallel  in  Hardy's  tragi-comedy,  Gesippe,  in 
its  source,  the  Decameron,  x,  8,  in  Chevreau's  play  on  the  same 
subject,  in  A  this  et  Porphirias,  and  the  Gesta  Romanorum.4 
Philipp5  declares  the  play  to  be  the  author's  invention  under 
Boccaccio's  influence,  but  the  circumstances  here  differ  in  many 

'V,6. 

1 1,  I.  The  rapidity  of  the  narrative  is  noted  by  Menage.  See  Menagiana, 
Paris,  1715,  iv,  124. 

J  Privilege,  February  8;  achev6  d' imprinter,  May  23. 

<See  Le  Voilier  des  Histoires  romaines,  Brunet's  edition,  1858,  pp.  392,  393;  cf. 
Rigal,  Alexandre  Hardy,  458,  for  other  references. 

5  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  46. 


78  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

respects  from  those  treated  by  Boccaccio  and  Hardy;  the  struggle 
is  not  only  found  in  the  minds  of  two  generous  friends,  but  also 
occurs  more  poignantly  in  the  soul  of  the  woman  who  is  sister  of 
one  and  in  love  with  the  other.  Similar  contests  are  not  unusual 
in  earlier  romances  and  dramas.1  Even  if  we  admit  that  this 
episode  comes  from  Hardy  or  Boccaccio,  the  source  of  the  greater 
part  of  Du  Ryer's  play  remains  to  be  found.  Therefore  it  is  still 
uncertain  whether  Du  Ryer  derived  a  part  of  his  play  directly 
from  the  works  mentioned,  or  whether  he  merely  had  suggestions 
from  them,  just  as  he  may  have  been  influenced  in  other  parts 
of  this  play  by  episodes  found  in  similar  authors.  An  abducted 
woman's  falling  in  love  with  her  ravisher,  the  separation  of  lovers 
by  storm  and  shipwreck,  battles  with  pirates,  rescue  by  fishermen, 
are  common  motifs  in  Greek  romances  and  the  work  of  their 
imitators.  There  is  little,  then,  that  is  new  in  the  individual 
incidents,  but  no  one  has  yet  discovered  an  earlier  work  in  which 
these  events  are  synthesized,  nor  has  it  been  proved  from  what 
particular  source  any  one  episode  is  derived. 

The  scene  is  laid  in  several  places  at  Athens.  The  time  is 
shortly  after  the  capture  of  Rome  by  the  Gauls.  The  exposition, 
made  by  Licidas  to  a  friend  whom  he  has  not  seen  for  two  years, 
tells  us  that  the  speaker,  formerly  a  prominent  figure  at  court, 
has  retired  from  it  and  suffered  the  loss  of  his  two  children — the 
daughter,  Cephise,  carried  off  by  a  man  of  whom  he  knows  noth- 
ing except  that  he  is  named  Clarigene,  and  the  son,  Cleante,  lost 
in  pursuit  of  the  ravisher.  The  friend  is  trying  to  comfort  him 
when  they  are  joined  by  Celie,  a  young  Romaine,  shipwrecked  on 
the  coast  of  Attica  the  day  before  and  hospitably  sheltered  by 
Licidas.  She  is  now  sufficiently  recovered  from  the  disaster  to 
tell  her  host  how  she  fled  from  Rome  with  her  brother  and  lover 
for  fear  of  the  Gauls;  how,  trying  to  make  the  Lipari  Islands,  they 
were  driven  by  storms  for  nine  months  till  they  reached  Attica, 
where  her  companions  have  apparently  perished.  She  adds  that 
her  brother  is  named  Telariste  and  her  lover,  Clarigene.  Lisan- 
dre,  astonished  to  hear  the  name  of  his  daughter's  ravisher,  at 
once  hastens  off  to  see  if  the  latter  be  really  dead. 

Before  he  returns,  Telariste  and  Clarigene  come  seeking  Celie, 
for  they  have  escaped  the  waves  by  the  aid  of  a  fisherman.     They 

1  Cf .  Reynier,  le  Roman  sentimental  avant  I'Astrce,  78,  85,  where  he  treats  especially 
Le  Jugement  d' Amour  of  Juan  de  Flores,  translated  into  French  in  1530. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES   OF  THE   MIDDLE   PERIOD  79 

look  for  her  in  different  directions  and  Clarigene  soon  finds  her, 
but  only  to  be  told  to  fly  for  his  life.  Since  he  refuses  to  leave  her, 
she  introduces  him  to  Licidas  as  her  brother  and  declares  that 
Clarigene  is  dead,  whereupon  her  host  informs  her  that  Clarigene 
has  been  arrested  for  abducting  his  daughter.  When  alone  with 
Celie,  Clarigene  protests  against  this  accusation,  is  assured  of  her 
faith  in  him,  and  again  urged  to  fly  while  there  is  time.  Instead 
of  doing  so,  he  goes  to  the  trial  of  Telariste,  who  has  been  arrested 
in  his  stead,  and  tells  the  senate  who  he  is.  This  first  part  of  the 
trial  takes  place  off  the  stage,  but  word  of  it  is  brought  to  Celie, 
who  is  summoned  to  tell  which  of  the  two  is  Clarigene.  Before 
she  goes,  we  see  in  her  the  conflict  of  noble  emotions,  which  she  calls 

"Grande  et  nouuelle  guerre,  oti  dans  vn  mesme  coeur, 
Vne  amante  aujourd'huy  combat  centre  vne  sceur. " 

This  struggle  is  emphasized  in  the  fourth  act,  when  Celie 
appears  before  the  senate.  Telariste  insists  that  he  is  Clarigene, 
while  Clarigene  not  only  maintains  his  own  identity,  but  urges 
Telariste  to  remember  his  dut>  to  his  sister.  The  judge,  Dicee, 
unable  to  decide  between  them,  appeals  to  Celie,  who,  torn  be- 
tween love  of  her  brother  and  her  lover,  tells  the  truth  and  points 
out  Clarigene.  Immediately,  however,  Telariste  reproaches  her 
for  lying  and  begs  the  judges  not  to  believe  her.  Clarigene  argues 
against  Telariste,  but  the  situation  is  more  confused  than  ever, 
so  that  Dicee  has  the  trio  led  away  until  some  means  can  be  found 
of  determining  their  identity.  The  problem  is  solved  by  the 
arrival  of  Licidas's  lost  son,  Cleante,  who  declares  that  he  over- 
took the  ravisher,  but  found  that  he  wished  to  marry  his  sister 
and  that  she  had  fallen  in  love  with  him.  Pirates,  storms,  the 
war  between  the  Gauls  and  the  Romans,  have  delayed  them. 
Their  letters  to  Licidas  have  never  reached  him.  They  arrived 
only  the  evening  before  and  he  has  come  to  secure  his  father's 
consent  to  the  marriage  of  his  sister  and  her  abductor.  But 
Licidas  refuses  to  forgive  Clarigene  and  is  delighted  to  be  able 
to  identify  him. 

Du  Ryer  next  brings  together  the  supposed  rivals,  Cephise 
and  Celie,  each  of  whom  admits  her  love  for  Clarigene  and  tries 
to  explain  how  he  could  have  courted  the  other  without  her  know- 
ledge. When  Celie  sees  that  Clarigene  has  compromised  Cephise, 
although,  according  to  the  latter's  statement,  he  has  not  seduced 
her,  she  gives  up  her  lover  and  even  urges  her  rival  to  forgive  his 


8o  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

inconstancy.  They  seem  sure  that  there  is  only  one  Clarigene 
involved,  though  a  more  careful  consideration  of  their  own  testi- 
mony would  have  convinced  them  of  the  contrary. 

Licidas  interrupts  their  conversation  by  bidding  his  daughter 
state  which  of  the  prisoners  is  Clarigene.  She  declares  that 
Telariste,  brought  in  first,  is  not  he.  Celie  and  her  brother  now 
fear  for  Clarigene.  When  he  enters,  the  former  bids  him  not  to 
consider  her,  but  to  marry  Cephise,  if  he  loves  her.  But  Cephise 
declares  that  this  man,  too,  is  not  Clarigene.  Licidas  wonders  if 
she  is  pretending,  in  order  to  save  her  lover,  and  consents  to  her 
marriage  in  order  to  get  the  truth  from  her,  but  she  sticks  to  her 
declaration,  so  that  the  mystification  continues  till  Cleante  brings 
the  explanation  that  there  are  two  men  called  Clarigene  and  that 
the  second,  who  abducted  his  sister,  has  now  come  to  give  himself 
up  to  Licidas.  The  latter  asks  pardon  of  Celie  and  her  lover 
for  his  mistake  and  would  atone  for  the  trouble  he  has  caused 
them.  They  beg  him  to  forgive  the  second  Clarigene  and  to  this 
the  father  consents.  Moved  by  uieir  example  of  forgiveness,  he 
further  allows  his  daughter  to  marry  her  abductor.  A  last  touch 
of  happiness  is  added  by  the  news  that  Rome  has  been  restored 
after  the  departure  of  the  Gauls. 

The  fact  that  the  plot  depends  on  a  mistake  in  identity  puts 
the  play  in  constant  danger  of  coming  to  a  close  through  the 
discovery  of  the  facts,  while  the  denouement  results,  not  from  pre- 
vious incidents  in  the  play,  but  from  the  simple  reappearance  of 
the  second  Clarigene.  If  we  overlook,  however,  this  fundamental 
weakness,  which  could  be  more  readily  pardoned  in  a  play  of  larger 
comic  purpose,  we  shall  find  much  that  is  excellent  in  the  work.  Du 
Ryer  has  made  progress  in  extracting  from  a  subject  almost  all 
possible  dramatic  situations.  He  gives  interest  to  the  exposition 
by  putting  it  in  the  mouth  of  a  man  whose  emotion  must  be  visible 
while  he  describes  the  loss  of  his  children.  By  a  clever  arrangement 
of  entrances,  he  gives  us  the  touching  scenes  of  recognition  and 
self-sacrificing  love  between  Celie  and  Clarigene. x  The  scene  in 
the  fourth  act,  in  which  Telariste  and  Clarigene  each  seeks  to 
sacrifice  himself,  while  Celie  shows  the  intense  conflict  in  her  soul 
between  two  noble  desires,  illustrates  the  progress  the  stage  has 
made  since  Hardy,  for  in  his  play,  Gesippe,  he  showed  merely  the 
generous  conflict  between  two  men,  while  Du  Ryer  adds  an  inter- 

'  II,  5,  and  III,  i. 


TRAGI-COMEDIES  OF  THE  MIDDLE  PERIOD  81 

nal  struggle  of  Cornelian  character.  The  scenes  between  Celie 
and  Cephise  would  have  been  omitted,  had  the  author  not  care- 
fully studied  the  possibilities  of  his  subject.  By  increasing  the 
interest  at  the  end  of  the  acts  he  binds  them  together  in  a  way 
that  partially  atones  for  the  weakness  of  the  denouement.  By  the 
successive  introductions  of  Telariste  and  Clarigene,  he  cleverly 
holds  back  his  explanation  till  the  last  scene  of  the  play. 

Celie,  the  chief  figure,  is  of  ancient  Roman  stock,  as  she  tells 
Licidas.  She  is  quick-witted,  capable  of  analyzing  her  own  feel- 
ings, not  too  absorbed  by  her  grief  to  sympathize  with  Licidas  in 
his.  She  frankly  confesses  her  love,  for 

"Quand  1'honneur  fait  1'amour,  dont  vn  coeur  est  brusle", 
Nous  ne  deuons  rougir  que  de  1'  auoir  cele". 
Ainsi  je  ne  feins  pas. " ' 

But  she  is  less  naive  than  she  thinks,  for  she  deceives  Licidas  to 
save  her  lover,  although  she  subsequently  names  the  latter  to  the 
judge.  Her  love  for  Clarigene  is  not,  indeed,  an  uncontrolled 
passion,  for,  while  she  believes  him  dead,  she  is  not  too  much 
overwhelmed  to  explain  her  situation  to  her  host,  and  when  she 
first  sees  him  after  the  shipwreck,  she  conquers  her  emotion  suf- 
ficiently to  send  the  page  away  and  to  remember  that  her  lover's 
safety  lies  in  separation  from  her.  On  the  witness  stand  she  tells 
the  truth,  though  it  may  mean  her  lover's  death.  Finally,  her 
most  difficult  task  is  performed  when  she  not  only  forgives  her 
lover  his  supposed  infidelity,  but  urges  the  woman  he  is  thought  to 
have  compromised  to  forgive  and  marry  him.  She  is,  indeed,  an 
heroic  figure,  but  she  does  not  boast  of  her  heroism  to  the  audience. 
She  is  simple,  devoted,  self-sacrificing,  strong,  the  most  charming  of 
Du  Ryer's  heroines. 

The  second  person  in  the  play  is  the  father,  Licidas.  He 
has  experienced  the  emptiness  of  court  favor  and  has  chosen  to 
give  up  everything  to  the  love  of  his  children.  When  he  loses 
them,  his  keen  sorrow  is  borne  with  fortitude,  if  not  with  cheer- 
fulness. When  he  thinks  he  has  discovered  the  abductor,  he  is 
impatient  of  everything  that  delays  his  vengeance.  In  the  end, 
it  is  true,  he  forgives  Clarigene  and  allows  the  marriage,  but 
Du  Ryer  deserves  credit  for  seeing,  as  so  few  authors  have  done 
until  recent  years,  that  a  father  can  not  look  with  pleasure  upon 
a  marriage  between  his  daughter  and  her  ravisher. 

'II,  i. 


82  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Celie's  lover  and  brother  are  types  of  self-sacrificing  devotion. 
Cephise,  who  has  inherited  her  father's  pride,  brings  out  by 
contrast  Celie's  purer  love.  These  persons  are  made  dramatic 
by  the  struggles  through  which  they  pass.  The  ravisher  and 
Cleante  are  unimportant,  appearing  only  in  time  to  bring  about 
the  denouement. 

Some  local  color  is  created  by  a  free,  though  not  detailed  use 
of  geographical  names  and  an  occasional  reference  to  historical 
events.  Athens, *  Rome,  Mitilene,  Ostia,  the  Lipari  Islands,  Sicily, 
are  named,  and  the  capture  of  Rome  is  described.  The  stage 
represents  Licidas's  house,  a  space  before  it,  and  the  Senate  House. 
The  court  room  in  the  latter  building  appears  to  be  concealed 
during  the  first  scene  of  the  fourth  act,  for  the  trial  is  going  on 
there  while  Licidas  is  conversing  outside.  He  remarks: 

"On  ouure  et  le  Senat  est  encore  assemble*," 

whereupon  the  second  scene  begins  with  the  judge  in  the  midst  of 
his  examination.  The  unity  of  time  is  perfectly  preserved.  The 
play  is  too  somber  to  admit  much  that  is  comic  beyond  the  fact 
that  it  is  based  on  a  mistake  in  identity.  This  mistake  produces  a 
laugh  when  Licidas  congratulates  Clarigene,  whom  he  believes 
to  be  Telariste,  for  having  escaped  from  Clarigene,  and  the  latter 
replies : 

"Pardonnez,  done,  Monsieur,  au  trouble  ou  ie  me  voy, 
Quand  ie  parle  pour  luy  ie  croy  parler  pour  moy.  "2 

This  is  almost  the  last  comic  passage  in  his  theater,  for  Du 
Ryer  now  gives  himself  up  to  tragedy  or  the  form  of  tragi-comedy 
that  resembles  it  in  unity  of  tone.  Clarigene  may,  therefore,  be 
classed  with  Lucrece  in  the  preparation  they  make  for  the  elimi- 
nation of  the  comic,  as  well  as  for  the  subordination  of  the  plot  to 
moral  struggles  and  examples  of  self-sacrificing  love  and  devotion. 

1  Du  Ryer  seems  to  think  that  Athens  is  on  the  sea-shore;  cf.  I,  2.         *  II,  6. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

TRAGEDIES. 

Du  Ryer's  six  tragedies  form  the  most  important  part  of  his 
work.  By  them  he  gained  most  of  his  dramatic  reputation  and 
helped  establish  the  formula  for  classic  French  tragedy.  Lucrece 
showed  before  Horace  that  Roman  history  could  furnish  themes 
suitable  to  such  plays.  Saul  and  Esther  introduced  the  religious 
subject  to  classic  authors.  Years  before  Racine's  Berenice,  Alcionee 
demonstrated  that  five  acts  could  be  sustained  without  external 
events,  purely  by  the  representation  of  mental  states.  Sceuole, 
commonly  held  to  be  the  author's  chef  d'ceuvre,  was  one  of  the  few 
plays  written  in  the  first  half  of  the  seventeenth  century  that  were 
acted  in  the  eighteenth.  Themistocle,  published  more  often  than 
most  of  Du  Ryer's  plays,  has  some  interest  as  an  example  of  the 
political  tragedy  in  the  Cornelian  manner. 

Lucrece,  probably  first  acted  in  1636,  was  published  in  l638r 
and  dedicated  to  "Mademoiselle  de  Vendosme, "  while  Du  Ryer 
was  still  secretary  to  her  father.  It  probably  met  with  some 
success,  as  it  is  mentioned  with  approbation  in  d'Aubignac's 
Pratique  du  theatre.2  It  is  based  directly  on  Livy's  narrative3 
without  influence  from  the  plays  on  the  same  subject  by  Filleul4 
and  Chevreau.5  The  scene  is  laid  at  the  "chasteau  de  Collatie," 
whither  Tarquin,  Collatin,  and  Brute  have  come  to  visit  Lucrece. 
Although  the  heroine  does  not  appear  till  the  middle  of  the  second 
act,  she  is  so  much  discussed  in  the  first  that  there  can  be  no  doubt 
of  the  predominant  place  she  holds  in  the  tragedy. 

The  play  begins  with  Tarquin's  ridiculing  Collatin's  love  of 
Lucrece  and  Collatin's  defending  his  devotion  and  boasting  of  her 
virtue.  He  sends  his  guests  into  the  house  to  surprise  his  wife 
in  the  performance  of  her  domestic  duties,  and  is  reproved  by 

1  Privilege,  May  21;  achevS  d' imprinter,  July  20. 

3  Paris,  1657,  ii,  89.  » i,  57-59.  *  Rouen,  1566. 

*  Paris,  1637.     Hardy's  play  of  the  same  name  has  an  entirely  different  subject. 

83 


84  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Brute  for  thus  exposing  Lucrece  to  Tarquin's  passion,  as  well  as 
for  coming  away  from  the  army  with  him.  Collatin  replies  that 
they  left  the  army  at  dawn,  only  two  hours  before,  and  have  come 
hither  in  order  to  settle  a  dispute  of  the  previous  evening  over 
Lucrece's  virtue,  but  Brute  still  disapproves,  for 

"Son  desir  eschauffe"  ne  respecte  personne, 
II  croid  que  la  licen[c]e  est  vn  droit  de  Couronne, 
Que  c'est  vn  trait  d'esprit  de  tromper  ses  amis, 
Et  que  quand  Ton  peut  tout,  tout  est  aussi  permis. 
Tu  1'as  veu,  tu  le  sgais,  et  te  trahis  toy  mesme! 
Tu  monstres  au  lyon  la  pasture  qu'il  ayme!  " 

The  dialogue  that  follows,  in  which  Collatin  continues  to  trust 
and  Brute  to  doubt,  shows  that  the  former,  like  the  hero  of  a 
Greek  tragedy,  sins  through  pride  and  want  of  measure,  and  that 
the  terrible  calamity  which  is  to  befall  him  is  due  in  part  to  his 
own  error, 

Between  the  first  and  second  acts  the  interview  between 
Lucrece  and  her  husband's  friend  takes  place.  Tarquin's  feeling 
changes  from  a  desire  to  win  his  wager  and  prove  the  inconstancy 
of  women  to  a  passionate  longing  for  the  possession  of  Lucrece. 
In  a  scene  with  Brute  he  confesses  this  desire  and  asks  his  aid  in 
fulfilling  it,  but  Brute,  instead  of  aiding  him,  reminds  him  of  his 
royal  duty  and  then  warns  him  of  the  fatal  consequences  that  may 
attend  his  act.  Tarquin  pretends  to  be  convinced  and  agrees  to 
return  to  the  camp,  but  in  a  monologue  he  tells  us  his  intention 
to  seduce  Lucrece.  He  is  influenced  not  only  by  his  love  of  the 
woman,  but  by  his  hatred  of  Brute  for  showing  him  his  duty. 
Accordingly  he  tells  his  plans  to  his  slave,  Libane,  then  admits  to 
Collatin  that  he  has  lost  his  wager,  bids  farewell  to  Lucrece,  and 
leaves  with  her  husband  and  Brute.  The  heroine  here  appears  for 
the  first  time,  speeding  her  guests  with  friendly  words. 

The  third  act  concerns  the  attempted  seduction.  Libane, 
acting  under  his  master's  orders,  returns  to  the  house  and  makes 
skilful  insinuations  against  Collatin,  first  to  the  maids,  then  to 
Lucrece.  He  declares  with  apparent  reluctance  that  Collatin 
has  a  mistress,  whose  attractions  he  openly  puts  above  his  wife's, 
that  Tarquin  has  rebuked  him  for  his  conduct,  and  that  it  was  to 
prove  to  that  prince  the  superiority  of  the  mistress  that  Collatin 
brought  him  to  see  Lucrece.  Libane  explains  further  that  he 
has  lost  his  way  in  the  darkness,  for  it  is  now  night,  and  has  been 


TRAGEDIES  85 

obliged  to  return  to  the  house.  Lucrece  is  lamenting  her  hus- 
band's inconstancy  when  Tarquin  enters.  He  calls  virtue  a 
"vieille  chimere, "  reminds  her  of  Diana's  love  affair,  flatters  her, 
begs  her  to  pity  him,  calls  Collatin  unfaithful.  Seeing  that  his 
eloquence  does  not  avail,  he  changes  his  tactics  and  pretends  that 
he  has  been  playing  a  part  in  order  to  convince  her  skeptical 
husband  of  her  fidelity.  He  adds  that  Collatin  is  returning  home 
and  advises  Lucrece  to  send  men  to  meet  him.  Having  thus 
got  rid  of  her  male  attendants,  he  confides  to  Libane  his  intention 
to  use  force. 

Her  interview  with  Tarquin  has  convinced  Lucrece  that  her 
husband  is  innocent,  especially  as  her  attendant,  Liuie,  has 
almost  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  confession  from  Libane.  The 
maids  argue  whether  she  ought  to  speak  of  the  incident  to  her 
husband,  till  they  are  sent  away  by  their  mistress,  who  wishes 
to  think  the  matter  over  alone.  Tarquin  then  enters  with  his 
slave  and  again  makes  love  to  her.  Seeing  that  she  still  refuses, 
he  draws  his  dagger,  but  is  unable  to  terrify  her  into  compliance. 
As  in  Livy,  he  warns  her  that  if  she  kills  herself,  he  will  kill  his 
slave  and  swear  that  he  has  taken  them  in  adultery.  Lucrece 
immediately  hastens  from  the  room  in  order  to  find  witnesses 
of  her  innocence.  Tarquin  pursues  her,  leaving  the  stage  to  the 
maids,  who  are  brought  in  by  the  noise  they  have  heard.  After 
a  conversation  between  these  women,  Lucrece  returns  in  despair, 
begging  Tarquin  to  kill  her,  now  that  he  has  dishonored  her,  but 
the  ravisher  has  fled,  leaving  her  to  thoughts  of  vengeance. 

The  last  act  gives  briefly  the  conclusion  of  the  story.  Colla- 
tin, Brute,  and  Lucrece's  father  arrive,  summoned  by  her  letters. 
There  is  an  interview  between  the  men,  then  the  last  scene  of  the 
play,  in  which  the  heroine,  at  too  great  length,  but  not  without 
pathos,  tells  of  her  sad  state,  makes  them  swear  to  avenge  her, 
and  then  kills  herself.  The  three  men  swear.  Collatin  is  over- 
whelmed with  grief,  while  Brute  points  out  a  means  of  vengeance 
by  expelling  the  tyrants  from  Rome. 

Du  Ryer  thus  expands  Livy's  account  and  adapts  it  to  the 
requirements  of  the  stage  without  greatly  altering  his  source. 
He  preserves  the  unity  of  place  by  laying  the  scene  entirely  in 
Collatin's  home, x  the  unity  of  time  by  beginning  the  action  two 

1  At  least  two  rooms  are  used,  for  from  V,  I,  to  V,  2  the  actors  go  from  one  apart- 
ment into  another. 


86  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

hours  after  dawn  and  ending  it  early  next  morning,  whereas  in 
Livy  several  days  elapse  between  Tarquin's  visits.  He  sustains 
the  interest  without  subordinate  plot  and  connects  all  the  episodes 
with  the  character  of  Lucrece  and  the  theme  of  her  violation  and 
death,  considered  in  their  personal  significance  with  scarcely  any 
reference  to  their  political  importance.  He  introduces  Brute 
early  in  order  to  characterize  Collatin  and  Tarquin,  wisely  omits 
Valerius,  whose  presence  at  the  death-bed  would  have  added 
nothing  to  the  interest,  and  utilizes  Livy's  mention  of  Tar- 
quin's slave  and  Lucrece's  maids  for  the  creation  of  subordinate 
characters. 

There  is  local  color  in  references  to  the  gods,  to  the  rule  of  the 
Tarquins,  to  Rome,  the  Senate,  the  siege  of  Ardea,  in  mention 
of  Mars,  Diana,  Bacchus,  Paris,  Ulysses,  Troy.1  Anachronisms 
are  found  in  remarks  on  the  "Empire  Romain, "  " encre  et  papier, " 
the  heroine's  avoidance  of  "bal  et  theatre."2  As  the  death 
of  Lucrece  is  a  suicide,  no  classicist  would  object  to  its  taking 
place  on  the  stage.  The  bienseances  are  well  preserved,  even 
in  the  difficult  matter  of  the  rape.  The  simplicity  and  eleva- 
tion of  Du  Ryer's  treatment  are  emphasized  by  comparison 
with  Chevreau's  play  on  the  same  subject,  for  the  latter  author 
introduces  Tarquin  and  Tullie,  lays  the  scene  in  several  places, 
has  Collatin  charged  with  treachery  to  the  king  instead  of  un- 
faithfulness to  Lucrece,  pads  his  work  with  accounts  of  the  battle, 
Sextus's  exile,  his  father's  expulsion,  and  has  the  rape  committed 
almost  before  the  eyes  of  the  audience.  Du  Ryer's  play  resembles 
it  only  in  the  subject  and  in  the  fact  that  Sextus  has  an  attendant 
who  seeks  to  help  him  seduce  Lucrece. 

The  tragedy  is  distinguished  from  the  author's  earlier  works 
by  a  more  careful  delineation  of  character,  the  natural  accompa- 
niment of  simplicity  in  plot.  He  throws  his  characters  into 
high  relief  by  constantly  bringing  them  into  opposition  with  one 
another,  so  that  the  only  persons  who  remain  vague  are  the 
heroine's  father,  who  does  not  enter  till  the  last  act,  and  a  certain 
Procule,  an  unimportant  messenger. 

Lucrece  and  Tarquin  are  the  most  sharply  contrasted  as  well 
as  the  leading  figures.  The  former  is  represented  as  a  beautiful, 
industrious,  faithful  wife,  a  gracious  hostess,  a  woman  of  sweet, 
ness  and  dignity.  She  is  easily  deceived,  accepting  as  true  the 

'Cf.  I,  2;  II,  2;  III,  5;  IV,  2.  'II,  2;  III,  5;  I,  2. 


TRAGEDIES  87 

slanderous  statements  about  her  husband,  but  she  has  no  blame 
for  him,  only  sorrow  at  his  fickleness  and  reproach  for  herself 
that  she  has  not  been  able  to  hold  his  affection.  She  is  more 
sorely  tried  than  Livy's  Lucretia,  who  does  not  appear  to  have 
believed  her  husband  guilty.  She  is  also  more  heroic  than  her 
prototype,  for,  despite  the  fame  the  Roman  heroine  has  acquired, 
she  evidently  preferred  her  reputation  to  her  virtue.  "Quo 
terrore  cum  vicisset  obstinatam  pudicitiam, "  writes  Livy.  The 
fear  of  having  it  said  that  she  was  taken  in  adultery  with  a 
slave  forced  her  to  yield  to  Tarquin,  and,  although  she  atoned 
nobly  for  her  weakness,  the  fact  remains  that  she  consented 
to  the  deed.  The  French  Lucrece,  on  the  other  hand,  never 
wavers  in  her  fidelity  and  is  overcome  by  physical  violence 
only. 

But  the  character  would  be  more  dramatic  if  it  were  less 
heroic.  As  Lucrece  does  not  waver,  there  is  no  soul  struggle  at 
the  center  of  the  play.  Perhaps  to  make  up  for  this,  Du  Ryer 
gives  his  heroine  other  problems.  Is  her  husband  unfaithful? 
Ought  she  to  tell  him  of  Tarquin's  attempt?  At  the  end,  how 
can  she  atone  for  the  loss  of  her  honor  and  take  vengeance  on 
her  ravisher?  But  there  is  not,  as  in  the  case  of  Chimene  and 
Andromaque,  a  problem  that  affects  her  action  throughout  the 
play.  The  work  lacks  the  psychological  subtlety  of  the  best 
French  tragedies. 

If  Lucrece  is  fixed  in  her  adherence  to  virtue,  Tarquin  is 
none  the  less  so  in  his  inclination  to  vice.  His  character  does 
not  change,  nor  does  he  falter  in  his  determination  to  possess 
Lucrece.  At  the  same  time,  his  desire  gains  intensity  as  the  play 
progresses.  He  is  not  the  brute  that  Livy  draws,  but  a  cynical, 
subtle,  courtly  knave,  grown  more  criminal  with  his  modernity. 
He  shows  less  lust  than  Livy's  villain,  greater  pride  in  his  own 
powers.  In  the  first  act  he  is  bent  only  on  proving  that  there  is 
good  reason  for  his  skeptical  attitude  towards  women;  in  the 
second,  his  desire  is  increased  by  the  sight  of  Lucrece,  the  know- 
ledge of  her  virtue,  and  the  admonitions  of  Brute.  He  now  adds 
hypocrisy  to  other  vices,  feigning  gratitude  for  Brute's  advice. 
In  the  third  act,  he  makes  every  effort  for  the  seduction,  showing 
far  greater  ingenuity  than  his  Roman  original.  In  the  fourth, 
he  resorts  to  force.  As  he  does  not  reappear  in  the  fifth  act,  his 
punishment  must  be  inferred  from  Brute's  swearing  that  he  will 


88  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

drive  the  royal  family  from  Rome.  D'Aubignac1  commends 
Du  Ryer  for  not  letting  Tarquin  die  on  the  stage  after  out- 
raging Lucrece,  giving  as  his  reason  that  the  crime  was  not  great 
enough  to  prevent  horror  in  the  audience  when  they  saw  him 
thus  punished.  But  there  is  no  evidence  to  show  that  Du  Ryer 
entertained  such  a  curious  view  of  popular  horror.  It  is  rather 
his  regard  for  his  source  that  makes  him  treat  the  rdle  as  he  does. 

The  two  characters  that  stand  next  in  importance  are  Collatin 
and  Brute,  the  first  as  impetuous  and  trusting  as  the  second  is 
calm,  penetrating,  reserved.  Collatin  refuses  to  think  evil  of 
Tarquin,  boasts  inadvisedly  of  his  love,  is  maddened  by  his 
wife's  death.  As  his  suffering  is  due  partly  to  himself,  he  is  an 
exceedingly  tragic  figure.  Brute  is  far  less  human.  He  is  one 
of  the  few  examples  in  Du  Ryer  of  the  "sage, "  the  character  who 
represents  the  author  and  has  little  personal  concern  in  the  action. 
Virtue  and  wisdom  speak  through  his  mouth,  but  we  are  struck 
by  his  censoriousness  and  lack  of  feeling.  He  has  greater  astute- 
ness than  that  with  which  Livy  credits  him,  for  he  practically 
promises  to  aid  Tarquin  to  seduce  Lucrece  in  order  to  extract 
from  him  his  confession.  Truer  to  the  Roman  conception  of  him 
are  his  keen  insight  into  motive,  the  influence  he  exerts  over  his 
friends,  his  gravity  and  determined  patriotism. 

Libane  is  developed  from  the  slave  whose  body,  according 
to  Livy,  Tarquin  threatened  to  leave  with  Lucretia's.  He  be- 
comes the  go-between  who  seeks  to  win  Lucrece  for  his  master  by 
slandering  Collatin.  The  few  lines  he  speaks  give  an  impres- 
sion of  devotion  to  his  master  and  large  ability  to  deceive.  With 
him  should  be  considered  Lucrece's  two  attendants,  introduced 
from  Livy's  ancilla  to  show  the  heroine  in  her  life  at  home. 
Liuie,  warm-hearted,  active,  outspoken,  suspects  Tarquin,  ques- 
tions his  slave,  advises  Lucrece  to  be  frank  with  her  husband,  while 
Cornelie  is  full  of  cautious  platitudes,  anxious  to  avoid  scandal, 
and  opposed  to  criticism  of  royalty.  The  arguments  in  which  the 
women  indulge  serve  to  make  them  more  fully  characterized  than 
the  usual  confidantes. 

We  find,  then,  in  this  first  tragedy  such  familiar  classical  marks 
as  a  well-known  subject  from  Roman  history,  a  strong  effort  to 
arouse  pity  and  admiration,  closely  observed  unities  and  propri- 
eties, subordination  of  incident  to  a  careful  study  of  contending 

1  Pratique  du  theatre,  Paris,  1657,  n,  89. 


TRAGEDIES  89 

characters.  To  place  the  central  struggle  of  the  play  in  one 
mind  is  a  refinement  which  the  author  did  not  reach  till  his  next 
tragedy,  but  already  the  progress  he  has  made  from  his  earlier 
writing  is  evident.  The  analysis  of  sentiment  and  motive  has 
become  the  main  element  in  the  composition  of  the  play.  At  the 
same  time,  the  loss  of  picturesque  scenes,  often  entailed  by  the 
preservation  of  the  unity  of  place,  is  reduced  to  a  minimum. 
It  was  well  to  omit  the  confused  banquet  scene ;  certainly  Du  Ryer 
acted  wisely  in  removing  Lucrece  from  the  stage  during  the 
fourth  act.  The  affecting  scene  of  the  suicide  and  the  important 
psychological  scenes  of  the  attempted  seduction  are  given  in 
detail.  The  only  scene  I  miss  is  the  first  meeting  of  Tarquin 
and  Lucrece,  in  which  the  former's  cynical  attitude  toward  his 
friend's  wife  is  changed  to  a  desire  to  possess  her.  As  the  inter- 
view would  have  interested  the  audience  without  violating  the 
unity  of  place,  its  omission  was  to  be  regretted,  even  when  the 
theater  was  under  classical  regulation. 

Seventeenth-century  references  to  Alcionee  indicate  that, 
next  to  Sceuole,  it  was  Du  Ryer's  best-known  piece.  That 
Richelieu  enjoyed  it  is  stated  in  the  dedication  to  his  niece,  the 
duchesse  d'Aiguillon,  which  declares  "qu'il  a  pleu  a  son  Emi- 
nence, et  qu'apres  luy  auoir  donne  des  louanges,  elle  luy  a  donn6 
vne  place  parmy  les  ornements  de  son  Cabinet  ...  Et  certes 
lorsque  son  Eminence  me  fit  1'honneur  de  me  commander  de  luy 
porter  cet  ouurage,  et  de  vouloir  encore  que  ie  luy  en  fisse  la 
lecture  apres  1'auoir  veu  representer  tant  de  fois,  ie  cms  qu'elle 
autorisoit  mon  entreprise,  et  qu'elle  me  rendoit  1'asseurance  que 
la  crainte  m'auoit  ostee. "  Christina  of  Sweden  is  said  by 
Titon  du  Tillet  to  have  had  it  read  to  her  three  times  in  one  day, 
"ne  pouvant  se  lasser  d'en  admirer  les  beautez. "'  La  Roche- 
foucauld paid  his  tribute  to  it  by  quoting,  with  reference  to  his 
affair  with  Mme  de  Longueville,  the  two  lines, 

"Pour  obtenir  vn  bien  si  grand,  si  precieux, 
I'ay  fait  la  guerre  aux  Rois,  ie  1'eusse  faite  aux  Dieux."* 

Fournier,  none  too  reliable  an  authority,  declares,  without  giving 
the  source  of  his  information,  that  the  abbe  d'Aubignac  knew  the 

1  Le  Parnasse  fran^ois,  Paris,  1732,  p.  249.  Perhaps  this  was  the  reason  why  Du 
Ryer  in  1653  dedicated  his  Decades  de  Tite-Liue  to  that  queen. 

1  III,  5.  Voltaire,  (Euvres  (Moland's edition),  xiv,  192, 193,  and  xv,  112,  gives  the 
quotation  in  slightly  different  form,  and  adds  a  note  on  the  duke's  parody  of  it. 


9O  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

play  by  heart.  It  is  certain  that  the  latter  thought  well  of  it, 
for  he  writes  in  his  Pratique  du  Theatre,1  "Les  petits  sujets 
entre  les  mains  d'un  Poete  ingenieux  et  qui  scait  parler,  ne 
sgauroient  mal  reussir.  C'est  le  conseil  que  donne  Scaliger  en 
termes  formels,  et  nous  en  auons  veu  1'effet  dans  VAlcionee  de 
M.  du  Ryer,  Tragedie  qui  n'a  point  de  fonds,  et  qui  neantmoins 
a  rauy  par  la  force  des  discours  et  des  sentimens. "  Still  more 
flattering  is  Menage's  comment:  "C'est  une  piece  admirable  et 
qui  ne  cede  en  rien  a  celles  de  M.  Corneille.  II  y  a  des  vers 
merveilleux,  et  elle  est  tres-bien  entendue.  Mondory  y  fesoit 
bien  son  personnage. " a  Saint-Evremond,  when  naming  plays  by 
other  authors  than  Corneille  which  deserve  applause,  declares, 
"Nous  avons  ete  touches  de  Mariane,  de  Sophonisbe,  VAlcionee, 
de  Venceslas,  de  Stilicon,  d'Andromaque,  de  Britanicus  et  de  plu- 
sieurs  autres.  "3  Finally,  Marmontel4  in  1773  asserts  that  "il  y 
a  de  I'interet  dans  I'Alcyone'e,  et  un  mtere"t  assez  vif. " 

The  play  was  first  published  in  i640.s  Mahelot's  mention6 
shows  that  it  was  acted  at  the  H6tel  de  Bourgogne.  If,  as  Philipp 
shrewdly  comments, 7  Menage  is  right  in  declaring  that  Mondory 
played  in  it,  it  must  have  been  acted  as  early  as  February,  1637, 
for  about  that  time  this  actor  retired  from  the  stage.8  It  con- 
tinued on  the  boards  for  over  twenty  years,  as  it  was  acted  by 
Moli&re's  troupe  on  December  2,  1659,  before  the  unusually 
large  audience  attracted  by  the  Precieuses  ridicules,  then  being 
performed  for  the  second  time.  Whether  Alcionee  was  subse- 
quently played  or  not  is  unknown.  It  certainly  had  further 
success  in  book  form,  for  it  was  republished  in  1655,  1705,'  and 

1  Paris,  1657,  ii,  no. 

1  Menagiana,  Amsterdam,  1693,  p.  366. 

»  (Euvres  mesltes,  London,  1709,  H,  199. 

*  Chefs  d'oeuvre  dramatiques,  preface  to  Scevole,  p.  v. 

*  Privilege,  April  13;  acheve  d'imprimer,  April  26.     The  Catalogue  de  Soleinne,  no. 
1006,  mentions  a  copy  signed  by  the  author  and  addressed,  "pour  mon  cher  amy 
monsieur  Colletet. " 

6  Memoire,  p.  5.     The  scribe  refers  to  it  only  in  his  table  of  contents. 

i  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  51.  Menage's  evidence  is  not  above  suspicion,  but  the 
only  argument  against  it  is  the  fact  that  the  play  was  not  published  till  1640. 
Strange  to  say,  Philipp  considers  this  strong  enough  to  overthrow  Manage, 
although  there  are  a  number  of  cases  in  which  three  years  elapsed  between  the 
representation  and  publication  of  plays,  notably  that  of  Du  Ryer's  most  successful 
work,  Sceuole. 

1  Cf.  Fournel,  Contemporains  de  Moliere,  Paris,  1875,  in,  p.  xxxviii. 

•According  to  Philipp  this  is  the  first  edition  that  bears  the  subtitle  Combat 
de  V Amour  et  de  I'Honneur.  This  title  is  mentioned  by  Maupoint,  Bibliotheque, 
Paris,  1733,  p.  10. 


TRAGEDIES  91 

finally  in  1737,  although  Niceron1  declared  in  1733  that  it  had 
"tombee  [sic]  entierement  dans  1'oubli." 

The  source  of  this  play  is  hard  to  find.  An  earlier  romance 
may  have  represented  such  scenes  as  passing  in  Lydia;  I  do  not 
believe  that  any  history  did  so.  At  the  same  time  the  main  theme 
of  the  tragedy,  the  unhappy  love  of  a  subject  for  a  princess,  may 
have  been  suggested  by  some  actual  event  among  Du  Ryer's 
contemporaries,  such  as,  for  instance,  Buckingham's  famous 
affair  with  Anne  of  Austria,  or,  what  would  suit  more  exactly, 
if  the  play  had  been  written  a  few  years  later,  the  history  of 
Cinq-Mars  and  Louise  Marie  de  Gonzaga.  This  is  a  favorite 
theme  with  Du  Ryer  and  reaches  its  fullest  expression  here. 
There  is  even  a  striking  resemblance  between  the  plots  of  Alcionee 
and  Cleomedon,  for  in  both  a  king  promises  his  daughter  to  her 
lover  and  subject,  and  then  breaks  his  word;  the  subject,  though 
a  distinguished  warrior,  yields  to  the  king's  will,  while  jealous 
nobles  influence  the  king  against  him.  On  the  other  hand, 
Alcionee  differs  from  Cleomedon  by  the  simplicity  of  its  structure 
and  the  pathetic  nature  of  its  ending.  It  may  be  that  Du  Ryer 
extracted  from  the  numerous  episodes  of  his  earlier  play  the  one 
which  gave  most  opportunity  to  psychological  development,  and 
made  out  of  this  a  classical  tragedy  instead  of  a  romantic  tragi- 
comedy. Whether  or  not  this  connection  exists,  it  is  interesting 
to  note  how  the  dramatist's  powers  matured  in  the  few  years  that 
elapsed  between  the  dates  when  the  two  plays  appeared. 

The  scene  of  the  play  is  laid  at  Sardis  in  Lydia.  Alcionee, 
finding  that  his  humble  birth  prevents  his  marriage  to  Lydie, 
daughter  of  the  king,  has  taken  arms  against  the  latter,  and  with 
the  help  of  his  enemies  has  reduced  him  to  a  single  city  and 
extracted  from  him  the  promise  of  his  daughter's  hand.  After 
this,  the  hero  has  aided  the  king  to  expel  the  foreigners,  and  now, 
with  peace  restored,  he  is  expecting  to  be  united  to  Lydie.  Here 
the  play  begins.  Lydie  is  torn  between  her  love  of  Alcion6e 
and  her  desire  to  be  true  to  her  rank,  which  does  not  allow  her 
to  marry  a  man  who  is  not  of  royal  birth,  and  especially  one  who 
has  revolted  against  her  father.  Alcionee  relies  upon  the  royal 
word,  which  the  king  would  fain  break.  The  decision  is  left  to 
Lydie,  who  conquers  her  love  sufficiently  to  refuse  her  suitor. 
Overwhelmed  by  her  refusal,  abandoned  by  his  former  friends, 

1  Memoires  pour  servir,  etc.,  xxii,  pp.  342-350. 


92  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

out  of  favor  with  the  king,  Alcionee  begs  to  be  allowed  to  go 
into  exile,  but,  when  this  is  permitted  him,  he  realizes  that 
he  can  not  live  away  from  his  ungrateful  lady,  nor  find  happi- 
ness among  her  enemies,  who  have  become  his  own.  He  sees 
in  suicide  the  only  solution  to  his  problem,  and,  having  stabbed 
himself,  is  brought  in  to  die  at  the  feet  of  the  now  penitent 
Lydie. 

If  we  consider  this  play  from  the  protagonist's  standpoint, 
we  find  it  a  tragedy  of  Racine's  type.  Alcionee  is  not  a  strong- 
willed  hero,  but  a  victim  to  his  passion  for  Lydie,  which  first 
makes  him  forget  loyalty  and  patriotism,  and  later  brings  him 
to  humiliating  submission  and  death.  Lydie,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  distinctly  Cornelian  in  her  devotion  to  duty  and  power  to 
conquer  her  love.  The  former  embodies  the  medieval  spirit  of 
chivalry ;  the  latter  typifies  the  seventeenth  century  ideal  of  the 
divine  right  of  kings.  It  is  the  clashing  of  these  two  forces  that 
forms  the  struggle  of  the  play  and  finds  its  only  logical  outcome 
in  the  death  of  the  leading  person. 

Racine  is  suggested  not  only  by  the  hero's  character  and  the 
fatal  struggle  in  which  he  is  involved,  but  by  the  skill  which  makes 
five  acts  out  of  a  refusal  of  marriage,  a  permission  to  go  into  exile, 
and  a  suicide.  The  structure  is  such  that  the  interest  is  gradually 
increased  as  the  play  goes  on.  In  the  first  act,  the  lovers  are 
brought  on  the  stage,  but  do  not  appear  together.  Lydie  is 
shown  to  be  moved  more  profoundly  by  what  she  conceives  to  be 
her  duty  to  her  rank  than  by  her  love  for  Alcionee,  while  love 
for  her  is  evidently  his  chief  motive.  He  displays  a  pathetic 
confidence  in  the  king's  promise  when  Alcire,  a  false  friend,  comes 
to  warn  him  against  aspiring  to  wed  the  princess. 

The  second  act  introduces  the  king  in  scenes  with  each  of  the 
lovers.  He  shows  his  temporizing  and  revengeful  nature  by  pre- 
paring to  break  his  word  and  hide  behind  his  daughter.  At  first 
he  does  not  believe  that  Alcionee  will  ask  for  Lydie's  hand,  but  he 
soon  learns  his  intentions  from  the  courtiers,  and  finally  from  the 
lover  himself.  He  argues  that  he  was  forced  to  make  the  promise 
for  the  good  of  the  state,  and  that  for  the  good  of  the  state  he  will 
break  it.  He  reminds  Alcionee  of  his  low  birth,  whereupon  the 
latter  boldly  retorts : 

"Se  mettre  au  rang  des  Rois,  ne  le  deuoir  qu'  a  soy 
N'est  pas  moins  glorieux  que  de  sortir  d'vn  Roy." 


TRAGEDIES 


93 


The  king  answers  that  honor  is  not  won  by  unlawful  victories, 
and  that,  even  if  Alcionee  can  win  justly,  he  will  still  have  to  get 
the  consent  of  the  princess.  As  Alcion6e  believes  that  the  latter 
loves  him,  he  begs  the  king  to  leave  the  matter  to  her,  and,  when 
the  king  has  consented,  rejoices  in  a  lyric  outburst: 

"Amour  tantost  propice,  et  tantost  rigoureux, 
Est-il  sous  ton  Empire  vn  Amant  plus  heureux? 
Si  ie  suis  ton  captif,  mon  seruage  m'honore, 
Vne  Princesse  m'ayme,  autant  que  ie  1'adore; 
Et  puis  ie  desormais  esperer  vainement, 
Si  mon  bon-heur  consiste  en  son  consentement?" 

Even  the  courtiers  seem  sure  of  his  success,  for  they  now  come 
to  remind  him  of  their  friendship. 

The  third  act,  the  act  in  which  the  struggle  between  the  two 
victims  of  love  and  duty  is  keenest,  begins  with  Lydie's  stances, 
used,  as  in  Corneille,  for  a  monologue  expressing  conflicting  emo- 
tions in  a  single  breast. 

"Qu'ay-ie  fait,  qu'ay-ie  resolu? 
Et  dedans  mon  ame  incertaine 
Qui  sera  Ie  plus  absolu, 
Ou  de  1'amour,  ou  de  la  hayne? 
Mais  doy-ie  encore  consulter 
Apres  que  Ton  m'a  vft  tenter 
Tout  ce  que  peut  vn  aduersaire? 
Orgueil,  honneur,  cruelle  loy, 
Doy-je  tout  faire  pour  vous  plaire, 
Ne  doy-je  rien  faire  pour  moy?" 

She  continues  her  lament,  her  love  contending  against  respect  for 
her  rank  and  anger  with  Alcionee  for  daring  to  revolt  against  her 
father.  Now,  at  last,  the  lovers  are  brought  together  before  the 
audience.  Alcionee,  announced  by  an  attendant,  comes  joyfully 
before  Lydie  to  tell  her  that  she  may  decide  the  question  of 
their  marriage;  but  she  meets  his  advances  coldly,  saying  that 
she  will  obey  her  father,  whatever  her  own  desires  may  be.  He 
accordingly  goes  to  seek  the  king,  who,  meanwhile,  comes  to 
explain  to  Lydie  that  he  has  left  the  decision  to  her,  solely  in 
order  that  she  may  refuse  her  importunate  lover.  He  retires 
after  bidding  her  remember  that  Alcionee  is  a  subject  and  she  a 
queen.  Left  alone,  she  resolves  to  give  up  all  to  her  "gloire. " 

"Par  vne  cruaute  que  i'ay  desia  blasme'e, 
Monstrons  nous  malgre"  nous  indigne  d'estre  aim^e." 


94  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

In  the  fifth  scene  the  climax  of  the  love  affair  is  reached. 
Alcione'e,  informed  that  the  king  is  with  his  daughter,  returns  to 
Lydie,  who  bids  him  cease  to  love  her,  reminding  him  of  the  evil 
he  has  done  to  the  country  and  to  her  father.  He  is  astonished 
at  the  change  that  he  finds  in  her,  and  defends  himself  by  the 
plea  that  he  did  all  for  her  love: 

"Enfin  si  mes  forfaits  m'ont  rendu  redoutable, 
Si  ie  suis  a  vos  yeux  vn  obiect  detestable, 
Ce  coeur,  ce  triste  coeur  par  1'Amour  consume", 
Au  moins  par  son  Amour  merite  d'estre  aime. " 

This  idea  and  her  refusal  are  considerably  developed  in  this  duo, 
more  cruel  than  the  lovers'  dialogues  in  the  Cid,  where  the  ad- 
herence of  each  to  his  own  duty  does  not  prevent  his  sympathy 
with  the  other's  action.  Lydie's  rejoicing  that  her  lover's  re- 
bellion has  enabled  her  to  conquer  her  love  for  him  is  unnatural, 
if  she  still  loves  him.  The  interview  ends  without  comfort  for 
the  hero,  now  convinced  that  he  is  despised. 

The  first  result  of  this  scene  is  shown  in  the  fourth  act,  when 
Alcionee  begs  the  courtiers  to  see  the  king  for  him  and  learn  what 
further  punishment  awaits  him.  They  reward  his  trust  by  ad- 
vising him  to  leave  the  country  and  slandering  him  to  the  king. 
Alcionee  curses  them,  but  he  decides  to  take  their  advice  and 
obtains  from  the  king  permission  to  go  into  exile.  Then  he  asks 
himself  to  what  country  he  can  flee,  where  fate  will  not  pursue  him. 
He  will  be  powerless  to  protect  himself  from  his  enemies,  and, 
rather  than  banish  himself,  prefers  to  "laisser  la  vie  ou  i'ay 
trouu6  1'Amour. " 

Now  that  her  lover  has  been  rejected,  Lydie  feels  free  to  mourn 
for  him  and  to  repulse  with  bitterness  those  who  propose  to 
punish  him  further.  She  still  loves  him.  Her  "vaine  et  fiere 
grandeur"  has  brought  her  no  happiness.  Soon  the  news  comes 
that  Alcionee  has  stabbed  himself,  hoping  that  his  death  may  be 
acceptable  to  her.  In  the  last  scene  he  is  brought  in  to  die  at  her 
feet.  She  reproaches  herself  for  her  high  rank  and  her  cruelty, 
but  he  answers, 

"Non,  non  souuenez-vous  du  triste  Alcionee, 
C'est  la  1'vnique  bien  que  veut  sa  destinee, 
II  le  peut  demander,  il  le  peut  obtenir, 
Car  ce  n'est  pas  1'aymer  que  de  s'en  souuenir. " 


TRAGEDIES  95 

The  manner  in  which  this  play  exemplifies  classic  rules  is 
obvious.  One  room  of  the  palace  is  apparently  the  only  place 
represented.  The  time  is  little  more  than  that  of  the  performance. 
The  action  is  extremely  simple,  for  the  persons  are  all  concerned  in 
the  refusal,  exile,  and  death,  and  no  subordinate  plot  is  employed. 
The  concentration  of  the  play  is  made  natural  by  the  impulsive 
character  of  the  hero,  the  keenness  of  whose  love  and  despair 
prevents  hesitation.  The  interest  is  sustained  by  the  carefully 
arranged  series  of  interviews  between  important  persons,  who, 
each  time  they  meet,  have  a  slightly  different  mental  attitude 
towards  one  another.  Little  space  is  needed  for  the  narration 
of  past  events.  The  brief  account  of  Alcionee's  stabbing  himself 
might  have  been  substituted  by  a  suicide  on  the  stage,  as  in 
Lucrece  and  Saul.  The  grave  and  eloquent  style  shows  greater 
power  of  expression  than  that  displayed  in  the  author's  earlier 
plays.  There  is  unity  of  tone  as  well  as  of  structure. 

The  leading  persons  have  been,  perhaps,  sufficiently  described. 
Alcionee  is  a  warrior,  whose  native  vigor  is  shown  in  his  first 
interviews  with  the  king  and  in  his  haughty  condemnation  of  his 
false  friends,  but  love  has  so  completely  subdued  him  that  we 
are  given  the  impression  of  a  confiding  and  devoted  lover,  humili- 
ated and  forsaken.  Over  against  him  stands  the  heroine,  who 
remains  cold  through  most  of  the  play.  Her  statements  that  love 
as  well  as  honor  is  struggling  in  her  bosom  are  confirmed  too  little 
by  her  speeches  to  her  father  and  lover  for  us  to  be  convinced  of 
their  truth  before  the  end  of  the  play.  It  is  only  in  the  fifth  act 
that  her  r61e  is  made  human  and  dramatic.  The  king's  cruel 
and  timid  r61e  and  that  of  his  advisers,  the  hypocritical  and  treach- 
erous friends  of  Alcionee,  are  important,  not  only  in  themselves, 
but  as  furnishing  to  the  leading  persons  the  appropriate  back- 
ground of  a  court  characterized  by  absolutism,  intrigue,  and 
flattery.  Of  the  two  treacherous  friends,  Alcire  is  more  talkative, 
more  ready  to  cause  the  hero's  ruin,  while  pretending  to  be  his 
friend.  The  heroine's  two  attendants  could  easily  be  reduced  to 
one.  Finally,  Achate  is  a  mere  confidant  with  no  other  charac- 
teristics than  fidelity  and  desire  to  be  of  use. 

The  play  has  been  compared1  with  the  Cid,  as  it  is  concerned 
with  young  lovers,  separated  by  the  hero's  crime  and  the  heroine's 
sense  of  duty  until  the  report  of  the  hero's  death  arrives.  But 

1  Cf.  Philipp,  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  p.  54. 


96  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

in  her  rank  and  in  the  fact  that  she  never  yields  to  love,  Lydie 
resembles  the  Infante  rather  than  Chimene.  In  Alcionee  the 
crime  is  less  prominent  than  the  difference  in  rank,  while  the 
ending  and  the  hero  are  quite  different  from  those  of  the  Cid. 
Again,  while  Alcionee  lacks  the  varied  and  brilliant  beauty  of 
the  Cid,  it  is  much  more  thoroughly  classical  in  treatment.  In 
his  second  attempt  Du  Ryer  came  nearer  the  ideal  structure  of  a 
purely  psychological  tragedy  than  Corneille  ever  did,  or  any 
other  French  dramatist,  as  far  as  I  know,  before  Racine. 

Saul,  the  next  tragedy,  was  published  in  1642*  and  probably 
first  acted  in  1639  or  1640.*  It  must  have  been  fairly  popular, 
for  it  was  republished  in  1705  and  1737,  and  was  mentioned 
in  the  Parnasse  fran$ois,3  the  Anecdotes  dramatiques,*  and  the 
Bibliothbque  poetique5  as  one  of  Du  Ryer's  leading  tragedies. 
The  latter  volume  gives  passages  from  the  third  act  of  the  play 
and  points  out  lines  considered  Cornelian.  Fournier6  notes  the 
"ampleur  toute  shakespearienne  "  of  the  scenes  between  Saul  and 
the  Witch.  Now  it  is  doubtful  whether  this  breadth  of  treatment 
interested  Du  Ryer's  contemporaries  as  it  does  the  modern  reader. 
They  probably  considered  the  play  inferior  to  Sceuole  and  Alcionee. 
At  the  same  time,  Saul  has  a  special  historical  value,  indicated 
by  the  author  in  his  dedication  "£  tout  le  monde": 

"Ie  le  donne  aux  Grands  et  aux  Petits,  aux  Profanes  et  aux 
Religieux,  parce  que  les  vns  et  les  autres  peuuent  trouuer  dans  son 
subjet  vne  instruction  sans  aigreur  et  vn  diuertissement  sans  scandale 
.  .  .  ie  ne  demande  point  qu'on  me  donne  de  la  reputation  pour  auoir 
fait  quelques  Vers  qui  peut-estre  ne  de"plaisent  pas;  Ie  demande 
seulement  qu'on  me  scache  bon  gre"  d'auoir  au  moins  essaye"  de  faire 
voir  sur  nostre  Theatre  la  majeste  des  Histoires  saintes.  Comme 
j'ay  eu  cet  auantage  d'y  faire  paraistre  le  premier  des  sub  jets  de  cette 
nature  auec  quelque  sorte  d'applaudissement;  si  j'en  ay  merite" 
quelque  chose,  ie  souhaite  pour  ma  recompense  que  ie  serue  en  cela 
d'exemple,  et  que  mes  Maistres,  ie  veux  dire  ces  grands  Genies  qui 
rendroient  1'ancienne  Grece  enuieuse  de  la  France,  deuiennent  mes 
imitateurs  dans  vn  dessein  si  glorieux." 

Du  Ryer  is,  indeed,  the  first  of  the  seventeenth-century  classic 
dramatists  to  turn  to  the  Bible  for  a  plot.  Other  plays  with  a 

1  Privilege,  April  8;  acheve  d' imprinter,  May  31. 

1  The  freres  Parfaict,  Histoire  du  thedtre  fran$ois,  vi,  74-77,  discuss  it  under  the 
year  1639,  but  as  they  give  no  reason  for  such  dating,  their  well-known  inaccuracy 
renders  their  testimony  of  uncertain  value. 

»  Page  249.  <  Page  176.  s  pp.  306-313. 

6  Thedtre  fran$ais,  II,  70. 


TRAGEDIES 


97 


Biblical  subject  had  been  survivals  of  the  medieval  drama  or  of 
the  sixteenth-century  type  of  classic  tragedy.  *  None  written  in 
the  manner  of  the  new  school  had  been  previously  represented 
in  a  popular  theater.  Saul,  therefore,  is  the  first  of  the  series 
of  Biblical  plays  to  which  Boyer,  Racine,  and  a  number  of 
eighteenth-century  dramatists  contributed.  It  may  also  have 
suggested  to  Corneille  and  Rotrou  that  dramatic  plots  could  be 
found  in  the  lives  of  the  saints. 

Du  Ryer  follows  the  account  given  in  First  Samuel  (Liber 
Primus  Regum)  *  of  Saul's  rejection  as  king,  his  visit  to  the  Witch 
of  Endor,  and  his  death  in  battle  with  the  Philistines.  The  main 
idea  of  the  play  is  to  show  'Thomme  sous  la  main  de  Dieu,  la 
creature  humaine,  faible  et  bornee,  se  sentant  de  plus  en  plus 
ecrasee  par  une  volonte  superieure,  dont  elle  souffre  le  poids,  sans 
en  comprendre  les  secrets  desseins, "  as  M.  Faguet  has  well  said3 
of  Jean  de  La  Taille's  Saul  furieux.  But  Du  Ryer's  Saul  is  never 
insane,  and  revolts,  not  against  his  own  punishment,  but  against 
that  of  his  guiltless  children.  The  more  human,  intelligent,  and 
self-sacrificing  he  is,  the  greater  is  his  fall,  and  the  stronger 
the  arraignment  of  Providence,  for  Du  Ryer's  dedicatory  hope 
that  his  play  will  make  the  theater  "la  plus  agreable  Eschole  ou 
Ton  puisse  apprendre  la  Vertu"  does  not  prevent  his  enlisting 
our  sympathies  for  Saul  in  his  struggle  with  God.  He  is  Du 
Ryer's  most  pathetic  hero.  It  is  not  simply  death  that  he  suffers, 
but  all  the  results  of  disobedience:  his  own  further  sin,  his 
inability  to  atone  for  it,  his  humiliation,  defeat,  the  loss  of  his 
children,  his  forced  suicide. 

The  play  is  arranged  so  as  to  show  these  increasing  disasters 
step  by  step.  Saul  is  the  central  and  dominant  figure  on  whom 
all  other  characters  depend,  and  in  whom  we  are  chiefly  interested. 
The  essential  facts  of  the  exposition,  God's  attitude  towards  Saul, 
his  own  understanding  of  it,  his  love  and  fear  for  his  children,  are 
shown  in  the  opening  lines,  which  the  king  addresses  to  his 
daughter,  Michol,  and  his  son,  lonathas: 

"Fuyez  done  de  mes  yeux,  fuyez  d'vn  miserable, 
De  peur  qu'en  1'appuyant  son  sort  ne  vous  accable, 
Et  que  d'vn  Dieu  vangeur  I'e'quitable  courroux, 
En  tombant  dessus  luy,  ne  tombe  dessus  vous." 

1  Cf.  La  Perfidie  d'Aman,  Paris,  1622. 

1  Especially  xxv,  44;  xxvin,  3-20;  xxxi,  1-6. 

»  Tragedie  frangaise  au  XVP  silcle,  144. 


98  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

His  children  seek  to  reassure  him  by  recalling  his  victories,  but 
he  replies  that  it  is  not  the  Philistines  that  he  fears,  but  himself, 
ever  haunted  by  a  secret  voice  and  fearing  the  awful  silence  of 
God,  who  will  answer  him  neither  by  dreams,  priests,  nor  prophets, 
lonathas  argues  that  the  fidelity  of  the  people  is  a  sign  of  divine 
approval,  and  Saul  is  beginning  to  take  hope,  when  Abner  brings 
the  news  that  Jerusalem  has  revolted  against  him.  He  execrates 
the  fickleness  of  the  city  and  sends  lonathas  to  put  down  the 
revolt,  after  a  struggle  with  his  desire  to  keep  his  son  from  danger. 
Michol  then  suggests  that  her  husband,  Dauid,  will  help  them, 
but  her  words  only  rouse  her  father's  jealous  distrust  of  the  man 
who  is  to  succeed  him.  Phalti  comes  to  announce  that  the 
Philistines  are  approaching  and  that  Dauid  is  marching  with 
them.  Michol  tries  in  vain  to  defend  her  husband  by  reminding 
Saul  of  his  past  services,  and  accusing  Phalti  of  plotting  against 
him,  but  her  father  curses  Dauid  and  refuses  to  listen  to  her. 
His  imperious  and  energetic  nature  is  shown  working  his  own 
destruction  by  this  ready  belief  in  Phalti  and  antipathy  to  his 
son-in-law. 

The  second  act  increases  the  difficulty  of  Saul's  position. 
The  enemy  are  about  to  attack;  he  is  persuaded  that  revolt  and 
treachery  are  rife  in  his  own  ranks;  he  is  drawn  by  the  silence  of 
God  to  commit  the  crime  of  appealing  to  evil  spirits.  He  sends 
his  faithful  agent,  Phalti,  to  find  someone  who  can  put  him  into 
communication  with  the  dead.  A  few  moments  before,  becoming 
angered  by  his  daughter's  persistent  championing  of  the  cause  of 
a  supposed  traitor,  he  has  declared  that  Dauid's  crimes  make  him 
unworthy  to  be  his  son-in-law,  and  has  given  Michol  to  Phalti. 
Then  lonathas  returns  from  Jerusalem  with  the  news  that  he  has 
suppressed  the  revolt  by  assuring  the  people  that  the  report  of 
his  father's  hostility  to  Dauid  is  unfounded.  He  joins  his  sister 
and  Abner  in  urging  Saul  to  recall  Dauid  to  his  presence.  Saul 
now  finds  himself  face  to  face  with  the  opposition  of  his  children 
and  the  shame  of  having  to  appeal  to  Dauid  in  order  to  save  his 
crown.  He  begs  lonathas  to  fight  so  well  that  he  may  owe  the 
victory  to  him  rather  than  to  Dauid,  and  when  lonathas  responds 
nobly  to  this  appeal,  Saul  gives  his  consent  to  Dauid's  return,  but 
only  to  withdraw  it  before  the  next  act  begins. 

lonathas  explains  to  Abner  that  Saul's  refusal  to  listen  to 
advice  and  his  belief  in  Dauid's  hostility  are  signs  that  Heaven 


TRAGEDIES  99 

has  abandoned  him.  They  enter  Saul's  tent  and  find  him  alone 
with  Phalti  and  disguised.  lonathas  learns  his  father's  plan  of 
consulting  a  familiar  spirit  and  protests  against  it,  but  without 
avail.  Saul  admits  that  he  is  wrong,  but  he  refuses  to  change 
his  design.  He  is  wittingly  pushed  on  by  a  power  that  he  can  not 
resist : 

"Tes  discours,  lonathas,  ont  passe"  dans  mon  ame, 
Tu  blames  mon  dessein,  moy-mesme  ie  le  blame, 
II  porte  dans  mon  sein  vne  juste  terreur. 
II  me  couure  de  honte,  il  me  comble  d'horreur, 
Ie  reconoy  mon  mal,  et  ce  qui  m'en  deliure, 
Bref,  ie  sgay  mon  deuoir,  mais  ie  ne  puis  le  suiure; 
Vn  pouuoir  que  le  mien  ne  sgauroit  e"branler 
M'entraisne  auec  horreur  ou  j'ay  honte  d'aller. " 

The  night  has  fallen,  and  Saul,  accompanied  as  in  the  Bible 
by  two  followers,  goes  to  "vn  bois  pres  de  cette  vallee"  and 
approaches  a  "grand  gouffre  ou  la  nuit  regne  eternellement. " 
There  Phalti  leaves  him  for  a  moment  to  summon  the  pythonisse. 
When  she  appears,  Saul  assures  her  that  she  shall  not  be  punished 
for  assisting  him,  and  implores  her  to  bring  up  the  ghost  of  Samuel. 
Though  astonished  at  this  request,  she  promises  the  king  to  do 
his  will,  and  retires  into  the  cave  to  perform  the  necessary  mys- 
teries. This  gives  opportunity  for  an  effective  monologue,  in 
which  desire  to  know  his  fate  and  horror  at  the  thought  of  the 
crime  struggle  in  the  soul  of  the  protagonist.  He  is  about  to 
abandon  his  project,  when  the  sorceress  returns  to  tell  him  that 
"desia  la  terre  eclatte  et  s'ouure  deuant  vous."  She  is  alarmed 
to  learn  that  her  visitor  is  Saul,  but,  reassured  by  him,  she 
announces  Samuel.  The  prophet's  ghost  asks  Saul  why  he  has 
disturbed  his  rest  and  learns  the  object  of  his  mission.  The 
prophet's  response  is  earnest  and  terrible: 

"Pense  a  ce  peuple  saint  par  tes  Lois  e"gorg£ 
Pour  auoir  centre  toy  1'innocent  protege", 
Pour  auoir  fait  trouuer  dans  1'enclos  de  sa  ville 
Au  malheureux  Dauid  la  faueur  d'vn  azile. 
Pense  combien  de  fois  ma  voix  t'a  menac6, 
Et  pour  voir  1'auenir  regarde  le  passe. 


Ce  Dauid  repouss£  par  d'iniustes  efforts, 
Entrera  glorieux  au  Tr6ne  d'ou  tu  sors, 


ioo  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Et  les  Rois  apprendront  par  ta  cheute  effroyable 
Que  qui  regne  en  Tyran  doit  perir  en  coupable. 
Saiil:  le  receus  la  Couronne  afin  de  la  quiter, 

Le  Ciel  me  la  donna,  le  Ciel  peut  me  1'oster." 

But  this  is  not  enough.  He  will  be  defeated  and  slain.  Saul 
replies  that  he  will  gladly  lose  his  life,  if  he  must  lose  his  good 
name;  whereupon  Samuel  tells  the  final  punishment: 

"Ne  t'imagine  pas  reuiure  en  tes  enfans 
Que  tu  vis  tant  de  f ois  reuenir  triomphans : 
Mais  scaches,  malheureux,  que  ce  sont  des  victimes 
Que  tu  verras  tomber  sous  le  f aix  de  tes  crimes : 
Auant  qu'vne  autre  nuit  obscurcisse  les  Cieux 
Sgache  que  tes  enfans  periront  a  tes  yeux. 
Saiil:  Helas!  voyla  le  coup  dont  1'attainte  me  tue. " 

When  the  ghost  has  gone,  Saul  expresses  his  grief  at  the  loss 
of  his  children  and  his  inability  to  understand  Heaven's  ways : 

"Vous  m'aimez  comme  enfans,  vous  plaignez  ma  misere, 
Est-ce  vn  crime  qu'aimer  et  plaindre  vostre  Pere? 
Cependant,  quels  malheurs  aux  miens  s'e"galeront? 
Tes  enfans,  me  dit-on,  tes  enfans  periront. 
O  Justice  du  Ciel  cache"e  a  la  Nature, 
Estouffe  au  moins  mes  jours  auant  que  ie  murmure." 

The  fourth  act  shows  Saul's  state  of  mind  after  his  interview 
with  the  spirit.  Convinced  of  his  own  sin  and  condemnation,  he 
no  longer  seeks  to  save  himself,  or  to  get  further  information 
about  his  fate,  but  turns  all  his  efforts  to  saving  his  children  and 
his  country.  Even  this  seems  to  him  a  vain  purpose,  if  Heaven 
is  his  enemy,  but  he  resolves  to  struggle  nevertheless,  as  this  is 
the  only  course  worthy  of  a  father  and  a  king.  He  accordingly 
sends  for  Michol  and  shows  her  that  he  has  conquered  his  enmity 
to  Dauid.  When  she  tells  him  of  a  prophetic  dream  she  has  had, 
and  begs  him  not  to  expose  himself  to  danger,  he  waves  her 
tenderly  aside,  commends  her  past  conduct,  assures  her  of  Heaven's 
justice,  and  hopes  that  she,  as  Dauid's  queen,  will  inherit  some 
of  the  honors  he  is  about  to  lose.  Finally  he  goes  so  far  in  his 
resignation  that  he  wishes  for  Dauid  the  peace  and  wisdom  that 
he  himself  lacked, 

"Et  plus  ferme  que  moy  sur  vn  pas  dangereux, 
Qu'il  viue  aussi  puissant  et  meure  plus  heureux. '' 


TRAGEDIES 


101 


The  still  more  difficult  task  awaits  him  of  saving  his  sons 
from  sharing  his  fate.  In  a  masterly  scene  with  lonathas  he 
bids  him  go  and  put  down  a  new  insurrection  at  Jerusalem,  but 
his  son  begs  to  be  allowed  to  stay  and  fight  at  his  side.  Saul 
insists,  urges  his  royal  right  to  command,  entreats  his  son  to  obey 
him.  lonathas  begs  him  not  to  believe  what  a  "Demon"  has 
told  him,  argues  his  right  to  sacrifice  himself  for  his  father  and 
his  country,  implores  him  not  to  expose  himself  in  the  battle. 
In  the  end  they  go  out  to  meet  death  together,  Saul  certain  of  his 
fate,  but  resolved  to  let  nothing  turn  him  from  his  duty,  not  even 
his  love  of  his  children,  for  "vn  Roy  n'est  pas  vray  Roy  quand  il 
est  trop  bon  Pere. " 

The  last  act  deals  with  the  death  of  the  king  and  of  his  sons. 
The  battle  is  depicted  with  a  vividness  rare  in  classic  tragedies, 
and  due  partly  to  the  introduction  of  persons  suffering  from 
wounds  just  received  in  the  combat,  partly  to  the  order  in  which 
the  events  are  arranged.  First  appears  Phalti,  mourning  the 
death  of  Saul's  sons  and  calling  on  his  men  to  stop  their  flight. 
Abner  joins  him,  and  they  ask  each  other  for  news  of  the  battle. 
Abner  believes  the  king  and  lonathas  either  dead  or  captured; 
Phalti  shows  him  the  dead  princes,  whom  he  found  dying  on  the 
field  and  brought  to  this  "boccage. "  lonathas,  brought  thither 
by  his  escuyer,  deplores  the  fact  that  his  "corps  sanglant  et 
deschire'"  prevents  his  going  to  his  father's  aid.  Phalti  and 
Abner  hasten  off  to  meet  the  approaching  enemy.  The  rapid 
and  intense  scene  prepares  the  audience  for  Saul's  arrival. 

The  last  scene  makes  a  fitting  ending  to  the  tragedy.  Saul 
enters  with  his  escuyer,  in  despair  because  he  is  living  to  see  his 
people's  shame.  He  finds  his  children  lying  dead  and  calls  upon 
Heaven  to  destroy  him.  His  only  hope  is  that  lonathas  has  not 
shared  the  fate  of  his  other  sons,  but  he  soon  finds  him  at  the 
point  of  death  and  sees  him  die  in  his  arms,  seeking  with  his  last 
words  to  summon  Abner  to  his  father's  defense.  Left  alone  with 
his  armor-bearer,  Saul  mourns  his  children,  not  because  of  their 
noble  death,  which  has  been  for  their  country's  sake,  but  because 
his  own  sins  have  been  the  cause  of  their  punishment  by  this 
" espouuantable  Arrest  du  Ciel  inexorable."  This  is  the  result 
of  greatness.  Let  those  desire  it  who  will!  He  would  return  to 
the  battle  to  die,  but  his  wounds  prevent  him.  If  he  remains 
alive,  the  Philistines  will  take  him  prisoner  and  laugh  at  his  afflic- 


IO2  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

tion.  He  accordingly  bids  his  armor-bearer  slay  him,  but  the 
latter  refuses,  and  Saul  is  obliged  to  add  suicide  to  his  other 
crimes.  As  in  the  Bible,  he  falls  on  his  sword,  and  his  armor- 
bearer  follows  his  example. 

So  completely  does  Saul  fill  this  play  that  an  analysis  of  it 
can  not  fail  to  give  most  of  his  characteristics.  He  is  a  complex 
figure,  meeting  Aristotle's  requirement  that  a  hero  of  tragedy 
should  have  in  him  both  evil  and  good.  He  is  a  proud,  over- 
bearing, jealous  monarch,  who  has  sinned  by  his  tyranny  and 
disobedience,  and  who  at  the  same  time  is  capable  of  any  sacrifice 
for  his  country  or  his  children,  and  wins  our  admiration  by  the 
fortitude  with  which  he  bears  his  punishment.  He  does  not  mur- 
mur against  Providence  till  his  sons  are  made  to  suffer  with  him, 
for  he  remembers  his  own  responsibility  for  the  murder  of  the 
priests  who  sheltered  Dauid,  but  he  can  not  understand  the  blind 
visiting  of  his  sins  upon  his  innocent  children.  Du  Ryer  has  made 
of  him  an  (Edipus,  sinning  and  repentant,  but  unable  to  escape 
the  merciless  punishment  of  his  crimes  or  to  protect  his  children 
from  suffering  with  him.  He  has  created  no  personality  that 
better  illustrates  his  ability  to  characterize  with  variety  and  force. 

The  presence  in  the  play  of  Saul's  children  assists  materially 
the  exposition  of  his  character.  Two  of  the  sons  are  not  intro- 
duced, though  they  are  several  times  alluded  to,  and  lie  dead 
near  the  stage  in  the  last  act.  Their  representation  would 
probably  have  served  only  to  confuse  the  play,  without  adding 
anything  to  what  lonathas  exemplifies.  The  latter  is  a  wise 
and  valiant  prince,  devout,  filial,  patriotic.  His  respect  for  his 
father  does  not  keep  him  from  urging  him  to  avoid  the  sorceress 
and  recall  Dauid.  He  even  refuses  to  obey  him  when  he  knows 
obedience  would  injure  both  Saul  and  the  state.  His  well- 
regulated  mind  can  scarcely  comprehend  his  father's  emotional 
nature,  but  he  never  fails  to  sympathize  with  his  sufferings. 
When  he  lies  dying  on  the  battle-field,  he  thinks  only  of  saving 
Saul.  Not  unlike  him  is  his  sister,  Michol,  who  gives  the  feminine 
element  to  the  play  and  represents  the  only  chance  for  happiness 
in  the  royal  family.  She  defends  Dauid,  accuses  Phalti,  and  tries 
to  save  her  father.  At  the  end  of  the  second  act,  a  monologue 
shows  her  struggle  between  love  of  Dauid  and  fear  that  he  may  be 
actually  in  revolt,  but  she  intimates  no  distrust  of  him  when  she 
speaks  with  others.  She  does  not  appear  to  have  become  Phalti's 


TRAGEDIES 


103 


wife,  for,  although  Saul  gives  her  to  him  in  his  anger,  he  not  long 
after  bids  her  reign  with  Dauid  and  makes  no  further  allusion  to 
Phalti. 

Du  Ryer  does  not  bring  Dauid  upon  the  stage,  as  do  La  Taille, 
Billard,  and  Nadal.  A  certain  interest  might  have  been  gained 
by  introducing  this  heroic  figure,  in  whom  all  the  leading  charac- 
ters of  the  play  are  so  deeply  interested,  and  whose  triumph 
would  have  given  an  optimistic  view  of  Providence.  But  by 
omitting  him,  Du  Ryer  is  enabled  to  follow  more  closely  the 
Biblical  narrative,  to  concentrate  the  interest  upon  Saul's  far  more 
tragic  character,  and  to  preserve  the  unity  of  tone  in  the  denoue- 
ment. Whether  he  is  seeking  to  illustrate  the  awful  effects  of  sin 
or  the  mercilessness  of  the  Almighty,  his  omission  of  this  charac- 
ter shows  considerable  power  of  artistic  restraint. 

The  absence  of  villains  is  another  characteristic  of  this  play. 
A  hasty  reading  might  make  us  think  Phalti  intended  for  such 
a  r61e,  since  the  Bible  represents  him  as  taking  Dauid's  wife, 
and  since  we  find  him  telling  Saul  of  his  rival's  treachery,  but  there 
is  no  evidence  to  show  that  in  the  play  he  plotted  against  Dauid 
or  took  possession  of  his  wife.  He  is  accused  of  slander  by  Michol, 
who  is  grasping  at  any  pretext  to  defend  her  husband,  but  he 
seems  in  reality  to  be  merely  bringing  to  the  king  a  report  that 
was  due  him.  He  does  not  urge  him  to  crime,  but  even  warns 
him  against  consulting  the  sorceress.  Loyalty  to  Saul  is  his 
leading  motive,  one  that  induces  him  to  misjudge  Dauid  as  well 
as  to  carry  out  faithfully  his  master's  orders  and  endeavor  to 
rescue  his  children  in  the  battle. 

Similarly  the  pythonisse  is  not  an  evil  person.  She  reminds 
us  rather  of  a  modern  spiritualistic  medium  in  her  professions  of 
faith  in  her  work  and  her  denial  of  mercenary  motives.  She  is 
obliging  in  spite  of  her  fear  of  detection,  by  no  means  the  typical 
hag.  The  spirit  she  evokes,  the  ghost  of  Samuel,  is  merely  a 
grave,  eloquent,  implacable  voice.  The  other  persons  of  the 
cast  are  insignificant  and  might  have  been  omitted.  Abner  and 
the  two  escuyers  are  little  more  than  confidants,  to  whom  some 
interest  is  added  by  their  Biblical  associations.  The  tragedy 
may  be  considered  largely  a  play  of  one  r61e,  so  completely  does 
Saul  dwarf  his  children  and  attendants. 

The  Vulgate  is  the  principal  source  of  the  play.  Du  Ryer 
idealizes  somewhat  the  characters  of  Saul  and  his  children,  but 


104  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

he  preserves  their  main  traits.  He  adds  the  revolt  of  Jerusalem, 
which  Dauid's  flight  from  Saul  may  have  suggested  to  him, 
Michel's  dream  and  her  escape  from  Phalti,  lonathas's  protests 
against  his  father's  visit  to  the  pythonisse,  and  minor  details. 
The  influence  of  Josephus1  is  visible  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  scene 
of  the  fourth  act,  where  Saul  comments  on  the  nobility  of  going 
to  certain  death.  Du  Ryer  appears  uninfluenced  by  Le  Mistere 
du  Viel  Testament,2  or  by  Claude  Billard.3  Although  his  play 
differs  radically  in  most  respects  from  La  Taille's  Saul  furieux, 4 
there  are  a  few  passages  in  which  he  imitates  the  latter  work. 
La  Taille's  pythonisse  says,  "Ie  ne  veux  que  le  taire  en  cecy  pour 
loyer, "  and  "I'iray  faire  a  1'escart  mes  coniurations ; " s  the  same 
character  in  Du  Ryer  declares,  under  the  same  circumstances: 

"Me  cacher  au  Roy  ce  sera  mon  salaire," 
and, 

"  Permettez-moy  d'entrer  dans  cet  antre,  a  l'escart, 
L&  ie  dois  en  secret  accomplir  les  mysteres."6 

Again,  Saul  says  to  the  ghost  in  La  Taille, 

"Pardonn£  moy  encor  Prophete  venerable 
Si  la  necessity  et  1'estat  miserable, 
Oft  ie  suis  me  contraint  de  rompre  ton  sommeil;"7 

in  Du  Ryer  he  says  to  him, 

"Pardonne  a  mon  malheur,  pardonne  &  la  contrainte; 
Si  je  commets  vn  crime  en  cette  extremite", 
Ce  crime  est  settlement  de  la  necessite".  "8 

On  the  other  hand,  Du  Ryer's  play  was  followed  in  certain 
passages  by  the  abbe  Nadal,  a  fact  suggested  by  the  fr&res  Par- 
faict9  and  proved  by  Philipp. I0  To  the  examples  cited  by  the 
latter  I  add  the  following: 

"Samuel,  ce  Prophete, 
Des  volontez  du  Ciel  le  plus  noble  Interprete ; "  * f 

"Samuel!  Quoy  ce  fameux  Prophete, 
Du  grand  Dieu  d'Israel  le  fiddle  Interprete."13 

Du  Ryer  appears  to  preserve  the  unity  of  time.  Between  the 
first  two  acts  lonathas  goes  from  the  camp  to  Jerusalem,  inter- 

1  Antiquities  of  the  Jews,  vi,  ch.  xiv,  §4.  '  Paris,  1882,  iv,  145-162. 

3  Theatre,  Paris,  1610-1612. 

*  Paris,  1572,  republished  by  A.  Werner,  Leipzig,  1908. 

s  Lines  61 1  and  628.  «  III,  5.  i  Lines  743-745.  '  HI,  8. 

9  Histcire  du  thedtre  franfcis,  vi,  75.  10  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  62,  63. 

"  Du  Ryer,  III,  5.  »  Nadal,  Saul,  The  Hague,  1706,  III,  7. 


TRAGEDIES  1 05 

views  the  rebels,  and  returns;  the  third  act  passes  at  night;  the 
fourth  and  fifth  take  place  during  the  fighting  on  the  following 
day.  Now  if  Gelboe,  scene  of  the  camp  and  conflict,  is  considered 
to  be  where  it  actually  is,  some  sixty  miles  to  the  north  of  Jeru- 
salem, it  is  hard  to  see  how  these  things  could  all  occur  within 
twenty-four  hours.  But  Du  Ryer  has  moved  Gelboe"  much  nearer 
Jerusalem  by  placing  it  "en  Iud6e, "  so  that  lonathas  may  have 
made  his  trips  in  an  afternoon,  less  than  twenty-four  hours  before 
the  completion  of  the  battle  on  the  following  morning. 

The  scene  is  laid  in  Saul's  tent,  a  space  before  it,  a  "bois" 
and  "roche, "  inhabited  by  the  pythonisse,  and  a  "boccage"  on 
the  battle-field. I  These  localities  are  all  near  together,  but  they 
evidently  take  up  more  space  than  could  be  covered  by  the  stage. 
In  compensation  for  this  slight  violation  of  the  unity  of  place,  the 
author  gives  us  a  play  practically  free  from  recits.  The  last  act 
is  as  full  of  the  animation  of  battle  as  though  it  were  written  by  a 
romanticist,  and  our  impression  is  not  chilled  by  a  spoken  de- 
scription of  the  fate  of  important  persons.  Furthermore,  Du  Ryer 
chooses  our  point  of  view  so  well  that  we  seem  to  see  much  more 
of  the  battle-field  than  the  corner  of  it  actually  represented. 

In  considering  the  unity  of  action,  we  must  notice  that  this 
is  not,  like  Lucrece,  a  tragedy  of  the  will,  where  all  the  episodes  of 
the  play  lead  up  to  the  protagonist's  final  decision  and  the  result- 
ing denouement.  Saul  has  no  power  to  choose.  He  is  driven  to 
destruction  by  a  power  which  he  can  not  resist.  The  play  should 
show  the  steps  of  this  process,  as  they  follow  each  other  in  logical 
sequence,  involving  no  characters  who  are  not  subordinate  to 
Saul,  no  problem  or  plot  which  turns  our  attention  from  the  idea 
of  divine  punishment.  Now  Saul  fulfills  these  conditions.  The 
facts  of  the  exposition  are  given  clearly  and  naturally  in  the  first 
act  by  the  argument  between  the  king  and  his  children  as  to 
God's  attitude  toward  him,  and  by  the  announcement  of  Jerusa- 
lem's revolt  and  Dauid's  desertion.  The  latter's  relations  with 
the  king,  which  are  treated  at  too  great  length  in  the  second  act, 
have  a  place  in  the  play,  because  they  show  that  God,  before 
destroying  Saul,  has  deprived  him  of  the  power  to  distinguish  the 
friend  best  able  to  help  him.  This  fact  is  brought  out  by  lonathas 
at  the  beginning  of  the  third  act,  but  it  ought  to  have  been  made 
clearer  in  the  second,  for,  unless  we  understand  the  connection 

"~»Cf.  in,  i,  3;V,  2. 


106  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

between  Saul's  punishment  and  his  reconciliation  with  Dauid, 
we  are  apt  to  think  that  scenes  devoted  to  the  latter  question 
violate  the  unity  of  action.  Saul's  relations  with  the  pythonisse 
are  introduced  to  show  him  driven  to  further  sin  and  coming  to 
final  certainty  of  his  damnation.  The  fourth  act  demonstrates 
the  extent  of  the  punishment,  which  goes  beyond  him  to  his 
children  and  his  country  and  is  not  lessened  by  the  nobility  of  his 
conduct.  I  have  shown  in  the  analysis  of  the  play  how  the  fifth 
act  gives  the  climax  of  it,  and  how  it  is  itself  arranged  so  as  to 
gradually  intensify  our  interest  up  to  its  concluding  lines. 

Saul  stands  apart  from  plays  of  its  time  in  a  number  of  ways. 
The  theme  of  the  consequences  of  sin,  visited  upon  guilty  and 
innocent  alike,  and  of  man  struggling  hopelessly  against  fate,  leaves 
little  room  for  sexual  love,  which  is  present  only  in  the  subordinate 
characters  of  Michol  and  Phalti.  The  introduction  of  spiritism 
with  the  pythonisse  and  the  ghost  of  Samuel  is  most  unusual  in 
classic  French  tragedy.  The  suicides  of  Saul  and  his  escuyer 
are  not  contrary  to  rule,  but  the  death  of  lonathas  on  the  stage  is. 
The  setting  in  the  mountains  of  Palestine,  with  the  battle-field 
and  the  cave  of  a  sorceress,  gives  a  picturesqueness,  an  elemental 
character  that  is  as  appropriate  to  the  theme  as  it  is  rare  in  the 
plays  of  Du  Ryer's  contemporaries. 

The  tragedy  contains  a  number  of  generalizations  in  quotable 
form,  as,  "Si  le  peuple  ne  craint,  luy  meme  il  se  fait  craindre"1; 
"Le  traistre  fait  vn  bien  quand  il  se  fait  conaistre"3;  "Quin'est 
qu'assez  fort,  ne  Test  iamais  assez.  "3  In  his  use  of  these,  Du 
Ryer  avoids  La  Taille's  error  of  impeding  the  action  by  didactic 
passages,  out  of  keeping  with  the  characters  of  the  persons  who 
deliver  them.  He  makes  his  generalizations  dramatic  by  using 
them  as  arguments  intended  to  influence  the  action  of  the  pro- 
tagonist, not  as  comment  upon  his  acts  after  their  performance. 
In  the  latter  part  of  this  play,  maxims  give  place  to  a  noble 
eloquence  in  harmony  with  the  pathos  of  the  situation.  Saul's 
farewell  to  lonathas  as  they  prepare  for  battle  and  his  monologue 
after  the  death  of  his  children  are  fine  examples  of  dramatic 
verse. 

Du  Ryer  published  in  i6/J44  a  second  tragedy  of  Biblical 
origin.  It  was  probably  first  acted  as  early  as  1642,  and  was 

'1,3-  'II,  i.  »H,3. 

4  Privilege,  July  15,  1643;  acheve  d'imprimer,  March  30,  1644. 


TRAGEDIES 


107 


republished  in  1737.  In  a  preface  the  author  explains  that  he 
calls  it  Esther  because  he  has  no  right  to  change  the  title  used 
in  the  Bible,  but  that  the  Deliurance  des  luifs  would  have  been 
more  appropriate  to  his  treatment  of  the  subject.  Its  mention 
by  Mahelot1  indicates  that  it  was  acted  at  the  H6tel  de  Bourgogne. 
The  abbe  d'Aubignac2  says  of  it: 

"Nous  auons  eu  sur  nostre  Theatre  V Esther  de  Monsieur  du  Ryer, 
ornee  de  diuers  euenemens,  fortifiee  de  grandes  passions,  et  composee 
auec  beaucoup  d'art ;  mais  le  succez  en  fut  beaucoup  moins  heureux  a 
Paris  qu'&  Rouen;  et  quand  les  Comediens  nous  en  dirent  la  nouvelle 
£  leur  retour,  chacun  s'en  e"torma  sans  en  connoistre  la  cause;  mais 
pour  moy  i'estime  que  la  ville  de  Rouen,  estant  presque  toute  dans  le 
traffic,  est  remplie  d'vn  grand  nombre  de  luifs,  les  vns  connus  et  les 
autres  secrets,  et  qu'ainsi  les  Spectateurs  prenoient  plus  de  part  dans 
les  interests  de  cette  Pi£ce  toute  ludaique  par  la  conformite*  de  leurs 
mo3urs  et  de  leurs  pense"es. " 

Baillet,3  commenting  on  this  passage,  remarks  that  this  suc- 
cess at  Rouen  was  rather  due  to  the  provincial  taste,  less  exacting 
than  that  of  Paris. 

The  story  of  Esther  had  already  given  rise  to  seven  French 
plays:4  Aman,  by  Andre  de  Rivaudeau,  Poitiers,  1566;  Esther, 
Vasthi,  and  Aman,  by  Pierre  Matthieu,  of  which  the  first,  pub- 
lished at  Lyons  in  1585,  was  subsequently  divided  into  the  other 
two;  Aman,  by  Montchrestien,  Paris,  1604;  La  Perfidie  d'Aman, 
Paris,  1617  and  1622;  La  belle  Hester,  1620,  by  Villetoustain. 
Written  in  a  declamatory  or  trivial  style,  these  plays  are  lacking 
in  action  and  successful  characterization.  They  seem  to  have 
had  no  influence  on  Du  Ryer's  play. 

It  is  more  probable  that  Du  Ryer  influenced  Racine.  Mes- 
nard,  who  cites  Du  Ryer  at  length  in  comparing  him  with  Racine, 
concludes  that  the  latter  "n'eut  done  a  puiser  aucune  inspiration 
chez  celui  de  ses  devanciers  qui,  par  la  proximite  des  temps  et 
surtout  par  le  talent,  etait  le  plus  digne  d'etre  consulte  par  ltd.  "s 
But  it  is  quite  possible,  as  Mesnard  admits,  that  Racine  knew 
Du  Ryer's  play,  and  derived  from  it  certain  suggestions  which 

1  Memoir e,  p.  5.  Like  Alcionee,  it  is  named  by  the  scribe  in  the  table  of  contents, 
but  not  subsequently. 

1  Pratique  du  theatre,  Paris,  1657,  n,  89. 

3  Jugemens  des  Sgavans,  Paris,  1685,  1686,  tome  IV,  part  IV,  p.  275. 

<  Cf.  Paul  Mesnard,  (Euvres  de  J.  Racine,  in  Grands  Ecrivains  edition,  Paris, 
1865,  in,  446-449.  I  have  been  unable  to  find  a  copy  of  La  belle  Hester. 

s  Paul  Mesnard,  op.  cit.,  in,  449. 


io8  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

are  not  found  in  the  Vulgate.  In  both  plays  Mardoche'e  calls 
upon  Esther  for  action  rather  than  lamentation,1  the  king  is 
surprised  to  learn  that  she  is  a  Jewess,  she  is  said  to  be  of  royal 
descent,  and  one  of  her  maids  is  named  Thamar. 2  In  describing 
Haman's  preparations  for  vengeance,  Du  Ryer  writes, 

"  Desia  le  fer  est  prest  qui  doit  trancher  vos  iours  .  .  . 
Qu'on  doit  enseuelir  dans  le  mesme  naufrage 
Les  vieillards,  les  enfans,  et  tout  sexe  et  tout  age;"3 

while  Racine  makes  Mardoche'e  say, 

"Les  glaives,  les  couteaux  sont  de"j&  pre"pare"s  .  .  . 
Le  fer  ne  connoitra  ni  le  sexe  ni  1'age.  "4 

A  few  lines  further  on  Mardochee  tells  Esther, 

"Songez-y  bien:  ce  Dieu  ne  vous  a  pas  choisie 
Pour  £tre  un  vain  spectacle  aux  peuples  de  1'Asie," 

with  which  may  be  compared  his  admonition  to  her  in  Du  Ryer's 

play,  * 

"Croyez-vous  que  le  Ciel  vous  rende  Souueraine, 
Et  vous  donne  1'^clat  et  le  titre  de  Reyne, 
Pour  briller  settlement  de  1'illustre  splendeur 
Que  re"pandent  sur  vous  la  pourpre  et  la  grandeur?" 

Mesnard  notes  that  both  plays  end  with  a  couplet  ascribing  the 
result  to  God.6  Bernardin7  shows  the  similarity  between  lines 
SS^SSG  of  Racine's  tragedy  and  six  lines  from  the  first  scene  of 
the  fifth  act  of  Du  Ryer's,  where  the  same  subject  is  discussed 
by  the  same  person  with  exactly  the  same  rimes.  He  also  notes 
the  resemblance  between 

"Mardoche'e, 

Qu'attaque  injustement  vne  haine  cacheV'8 
and 

"centre  Mardoche'e 

Cette  haine,  Seigneur,  sous  d'autres  noms  cache*e.  "9 

Finally,  Du  Ryer10  makes  Haman  say  of  the  Jews, 

"Des-ja  de  leur  venin  les  Prouinces  s'infectent;" 
Racine  makes  him  refer  to  this  people,  who11 

"D'vn  culte  profane  infecte  votre  empire." 

1  Du  Ryer,  IV,  I ;  Racine,  II,  i.  »  Du  Ryer,  V,  5;  Racine,  III,  4. 

3 IV,  i.  *  I,  3.     Cf.  Mesnard,  (Euvresde  J.  Racine,  in,  476,  477. 

*  IV,  i.  «  Op.  cit.,  in,  536. 

7  Theatre  complet  de  Jean  Racine,  Paris,  1882,  IV,  240. 

«Du  Ryer,  V,  5.  'Racine,  III,  4.  "IV,  2.  »  II,  i. 


TRAGEDIES 


109 


These  quotations1  show  that  Racine  knew  his  predecessor's 
work,  though  he  used  it  little.  It  should  be  especially  noticed 
that  the  tone  of  the  two  tragedies  is  different,  for  Racine,  as  com- 
mentators remark,  is  full  of  the  spirit  of  the  Psalms  and  Prophets, 
while  Du  Ryer  finds  in  Esther  the  material  for  a  play  of  court 
intrigue,  which  has  little  that  is  religious  about  it.  What  has  not 
been  noticed,  however,  is  that  Du  Ryer,  whether  intentionally  or 
not,  is  in  this  matter  nearer  to  the  spirit  of  the  Book  of  Esther, 
a  work  that  is  very  little  religious. 

Du  Ryer's  play  begins  after  Vasthi's  refusal  to  obey  the  king's 
summons  and  after  the  choice  of  Esther  to  succeed  her,  but 
before  the  former  queen  has  given  up  hope  of  being  restored  to 
favor.  The  first  act  is  purely  expository.  We  learn  from  the 
opening  scene  between  Esther  and  her  confidante,  Thamar,  just 
as  we  do  from  a  similar  first  scene  in  Racine's  play,  who  Esther 
is,  and  to  what  position  she  has  been  raised,  but  instead  of  the 
fear  for  her  people  that  Racine's  heroine  shows,  Esther  here  is 
afraid  only  that  her  new  dignity  will  make  her  share  Vasthi's 
fate.  Mardochee  tells  her  that  she  may  overcome  the  king's 
hostility  to  the  Jews  and  warns  her  against  Haman.  We  learn 
that  Mardochee  has  had  her  brought  up  among  Persians  and 
that  she  is  believed  to  be  one  of  them.  A  third  scene  contains  a 
conversation  between  Haman  and  his  confidant,  Thares,  in  which 
the  former  speaks  of  his  hate  for  Mardochee,  who  despises  him, 
sets  Esther  against  him,  and  has  previously  revealed  a  plot  which 
would  have  put  Haman  on  the  throne.  As  ordinary  vengeance  is 
too  small  for  this  case,  Haman  has  resolved  to  destroy  Mardochee's 
whole  people  with  him. 

An  interview  between  Vasthi  and  Haman  begins  the  second 
act.  This  queen  still  hopes  to  rule  and  begs  Haman  to  help  her. 
She  is  desperate  and  declamatory,  insisting  that  for  her  there  is 
only  "le  thrdne  ou  le  tombeau, "  indignant  that  the  king  should 
replace  her  by  this  "fille  du  peuple. "  Haman  professes  to  be 
faithful  to  Vasthi's  interests  and  advises  her  to  use  on  the  king 
the  power  of  her  tears.  She  at  first  refuses,  then  decides  to  follow 
his  advice,  then  fears  that  weeping  may  be  considered  an  admis- 
sion of  guilt  and  begs  Haman  to  plead  her  cause.  This  he  agrees 
to  do,  explaining  to  his  confidant,  when  Vasthi  has  left  him,  that 

1  Philipp,  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  72-75,  cites  most  of  the  passages  here  referred 
to,  and  some  which  prove  nothing  except  that  both  authors  imitate  the  Vulgate. 


no  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

his  motive  is  love  of  Esther,  for  the  latter  will  be  lost  to  him  if 
she  becomes  queen.  That  he  is  sincere  in  this  purpose  is  shown 
in  the  next  scene,  where  he  seeks  to  persuade  the  king  to  reject 
Esther,  on  the  ground  that  both  nobles  and  people  will  object  to 
seeing  a  woman  of  humble  origin  made  queen.  But  his  represen- 
tations have  no  effect,  and  he  is  obliged  to  send  word  to  Vasthi 
that  she  can  not  succeed  without  a  revolution. 

The  preceding  acts  have  prepared  the  way  for  two  dramatic 
scenes  in  which  Esther  and  Vasthi  are  brought  face  to  face,  first 
before  the  king,  and  then  alone  with  Mardochee,  a  thing  found 
neither  in  the  Bible  nor  in  the  other  French  dramatists.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  act,  Haman  introduces  Esther  into  the  presence 
of  the  king  and  "toute  la  cour."  She  approaches  humbly,  bring- 
ing a  "cceur  obeyssant"  as  her  only  adornment,  and  is  told  to 
mount  the  throne.  Then  Vasthi  surprises  the  king  by  coming  to 
ask  an  explanation  of  the  treatment  she  has  received.  She  tells  him 
that  she  wishes  to  be  judged  again :  to  rule,  if  she  is  innocent ;  if 
guilty,  to  be  put  to  death.  Esther  urges  the  king  to  allow  her 
rival  to  remain  queen,  and  the  king  retires  to  make  his  final 
decision.  In  the  scene  between  the  two  women,  Vasthi  commands 
Esther  not  to  seek  to  aid  her,  bids  her  remember  her  humble 
origin,  and  intimates  that,  if  the  king  decides  in  her  favor,  it  will 
only  be  because  he  is  her  lover.  Esther  is  bewildered  by  her 
rival's  ungracious  response  to  her  efforts  in  her  behalf.  She  is 
soon  left  alone  with  Mardoch6e,  with  whom  she  discusses  the 
chances  of  her  success.  The  suspense  is  made  more  intense  by 
the  arrival  of  Haman,  who  tells  Esther  with  much  hesitation 
that  the  king,  though  still  undecided,  seems  about  to  declare  for 
Vasthi.  But  before  he  leaves,  the  crown  and  scepter  are  brought 
to  Esther  with  the  news  of  her  victory.  Left  alone,  Haman  is 
at  first  in  despair  at  his  loss  of  Esther  and  the  triumph  of 
Mardochee : 

"II  nous  quitte  en  vainqueur,  il  rit  de  mon  courroux.  .   . 
Falloit-il  ma  raison  te  laisser  desarmer, 
Falloit-il  voir  Esther?     Mais  falloit-il  rainier?" 

He  soon  reverts,  however,  to  his  original  plan  of  destroying  the 
Jews,  for  he  hopes  not  only  to  slay  Mardochee,  but  to  get  pos- 
session of  Esther,  whom  he  believes  to  be  a  friend  of  the  Jews, 
although  he  does  not  know  that  she  is  herself  a  Jewess. 


TRAGEDIES  1 1 1 

As  Vasthi  has  now  disappeared  from  the  play,  the  remain- 
ing two  acts  are  concerned  with  Haman's  conspiracy.  This  has 
not  been  published  abroad,  as  in  the  Bible,  but  it  is  known  to 
Mardochee  through  Esther's  confidante,  Thamar,  who  has  it 
from  Thares,  her  lover  and  Haman's  confidant.  Mardochee  tells 
Esther  of  the  plot  and  bids  her  save  her  people.  When  she 
expresses  fear,  he  replies  that,  if  she  refuses,  she  will  be  destroyed 
and  her  people  saved  in  some  other  way.  Haman  confirms  the 
truth  of  the  plot  against  the  Jews,  and  Esther  pretends  to  hate 
her  people  and  to  rejoice  in  his  efforts  to  destroy  them.  Haman 
is  delighted  at  the  progress  of  affairs,  especially  when  he  is  sum- 
moned to  consult  the  king  about  a  certain  reward. 

The  fifth  act  begins  with  the  king's  soliloquy  on  the  impor- 
tance of  rewarding  Mardochee  for  having  revealed  the  plot  against 
his  life.  ' '  Ne  pas  recompenser,  c'est  apprendre  a  trahir, ' '  he  thinks. 
Haman,1  believing  that  he  is  himself  the  man  to  be  honored, 
suggests,  as  in  the  Bible,  that  he  be  splendidly  clothed,  shown  to 
the  people,  and  proclaimed  by  one  of  the  nobles  as  the  special 
object  of  the  royal  favor.  The  king  approves  his  suggestion,  and 
the  following  dialogue  ensues: 

"Le  Roy:  Cognoy-tu  Mardochee? 
Haman:  Ouy,  Sire. 

Le  Roy:  C'est  celuy 

Que  i'aime,  que  i'honore,  et  qui  fut  mon  appuy. 

Haman:  Quoy,  Sire?     Mardochee  est  ce  subjet  fidelle? 

Le  Roy:  C'est  luy,  mon  cher  Haman,  dont  i'honore  le  zele.  .  . 

Haman:  Mais  il  fit  son  deuoir  s'il  vous  rendit  seruice. 

Le  Roy:  Et  ic  feray  le  mien,  si  ie  luy  rends  iustice.  .  . 

Quoy  veux-tu  t'opposer  £  tes  propres  conseils? 

A  qui  destinois-tu  ces  honneurs  sans  pareils? 
Haman:  Aux  princes  seulement,  ces  appuis  des  Prouinces. 
Le  Roy:  Haman,  de  bons  sub  jets  me  tiennent  lieu  de  Princes." 

When  alone,  Haman  expresses  his  impotent  rage  and  desires 
death,  for 

"Tomber  au  precipice  est  vne  loy  plus  douce, 
Que  d'en  faire  sortir  1'ennemy  qu'on  y  pousse." 

Mardochee,    informed   by   Haman   of   his   approaching   honor, 
reproves  him  bitterly  for  what  he  takes  to  be  a  derisive  reference 

1  The  scene  is  given  at  length  by  Mesnard,  (Euvres  de  J.  Racine,  in,  545~547.  and 
by  Bernardin,  Thedtre  complet  de  Jean  Racine,  IV,  285-287. 


U2  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

to  the  slaughter  of  his  people. *  Their  meeting  is  followed  by  the 
last  and  most  important  scene  of  the  play.  The  king  sees  Esther 
lay  at  his  feet  her  crown  and  scepter,  saying  that  she  does  so 
because  an  enemy  is  attacking  an  innocent  people  and  the  king's 
honor.  Haman,  when  asked  for  advice,  shows  that  he  has  failed 
to  profit  by  his  recent  experience,  for  he  counsels  the  king  to  put 
this  enemy  to  death.  When  the  king  bids  Esther  tell  who  the 
enemy  is,  she  points  to  Haman  and  reveals  the  plot  against  the 
Jews  and  his  part  in  the  conspiracy  against  the  king,  which 
Mardochee  discovered.  A  letter,  written  by  Haman  to  the  Mace- 
donians and  now  brought  back  by  a  Greek,  is  submitted  to  sub- 
stantiate her  accusation.2  Esther  does  not  ask  for  Haman's 
punishment,  but  for  the  rescue  of  the  Jews,  whom  she  declares  to 
be  her  own  people.  The  king  is  astonished  to  learn  that  Esther 
is  a  Jewess.  He  at  once  promises  to  save  her  kindred  and  orders 
Haman  put  to  death,  despite  her  plea  for  him.  Mardochee  ends 
the  play  by  ascribing  the  denouement  to  Heaven  alone. 

The  unities  of  time  and  place  are  carefully  preserved.  Du 
Ryer  condenses  the  Biblical  narrative  by  the  omission  of  the 
circumstances  leading  up  to  Esther's  selection  as  queen,  the  ban- 
quets she  gave  to  the  king  and  Haman,  and  the  Jews'  revenge 
upon  their  enemies.  He  lays  the  scene  "dans  la  Ville  de  Suse, 
entre  la  Perse  et  Babylone, "  apparently  in  one  or  two  rooms  of 
the  palace.  He  is  not  careful  to  explain  how  Mardochee  and 
Haman  have  such  free  access  to  the  royal  apartments,  nor  to 
account  for  many  of  the  exits  and  entrances  he  finds  necessary 
to  his  situations. 

The  unity  of  action  must  have  been  criticized  by  his  con- 
temporaries, for  Du  Ryer  speaks  in  his  preface  of  satisfying 
"ceux  qui  me  pourroient  demander  ou  est  1'vnite  d'action."  He 
explains  that  to  understand  this  we  must  consider  the  Jews' 
deliverance  as  "la  fin  et  le  but  que  se  propose  cet  Ouurage." 
"En  effet,  toutes  choses  y  contribuent  au  salut,  et  a  la  conserva- 
tion de  ce  peuple,  1'Orgueil  de  Vasthi,  la  Beaute  d'Esther,  I'Amour 
d'Assuerus,  ou  d'Artaxerce  Roy  de  Perse,  les  Injustices  d'Haman, 
et  les  soins  de  Mardoche'e."  This  explanation,  however,  is  in- 

1  This  scene,  which  has  no  parallel  in  the  Vulgate,  is  apparently  derived  from 
Josephus,  Antiquities,  xi,  ch.  vi,  §10. 

3  Haman's  implication  in  a  conspiracy  against  the  king  and  his  alliance  with  the 
Macedonians  is  found  in  the  Vulgate,  xvi,  14,  among  the  Apocryphal  chapters  of  the 
Book  of  Esther. 


TRAGEDIES 

sufficient.  The  second  and  third  acts  do  not  advance  the  action, 
for  at  the  end  of  them  the  situation  is  practically  the  same  as  at 
the  beginning.  The  king's  remembering  to  reward  Mardochee 
and  the  proof  of  Haman's  guilt  by  a  letter  brought  by  a  Greek 
are  new  motifs  introduced  in  the  fifth  act.  The  first  three  scenes 
of  this  act,  concerned  with  the  nature  of  Mardochee's  reward, 
have  little  to  do  with  bringing  about  the  denouement,  for  Haman's 
resolution  to  destroy  the  Jews  had  already  been  formed.  The 
discovery  of  the  plot  against  the  Jews,  through  the  love  affair  of 
confidants,  is  extremely  weak.  Finally,  if  the  author  intended  to 
unify  the  play  by  representing  the  episodes  as  so  many  means  by 
which  the  Jews  were  saved,  he  should  have  kept  the  thought  of 
God  constantly  before  the  audience;  but  only  the  speeches  of 
Mardochee  and  Esther's  words  in  the  last  scene  present  this  idea. 
The  play  remains  a  collection  of  loosely  connected  episodes 
dealing  with  Haman's  efforts  to  possess  Esther  and  to  destroy 
Mardochee,  Esther's  rivalry  with  Vasthi,  Mardoche'e's  endeavor  to 
save  his  people,  the  king's  purpose  to  reward  Mardoch6e,  Haman's 
plot  against  the  king  and  its  punishment. 

On  the  other  hand,  Du  Ryer  should  be  commended  for  omit- 
ting certain  Biblical  scenes  that  would  have  further  violated  the 
play's  unity,  for  explaining  how  Esther  passed  as  a  Persian,  and 
for  strengthening  Haman's  reasons  for  hating  Mardochee.  He 
produces  interesting  scenes  by  introducing  Vasthi.  By  connect- 
ing Haman  with  the  plot  which  Mardochee  discovered  he  is  able 
to  reduce  two  conspiracies  to  one. 

The  four  principal  characters  are  arranged  symmetrically 
about  the  king.  Esther  and  Mardochee  gradually  replace  Haman 
and  Vasthi  in  the  royal  favor.  The  characterization  found  in 
the  Bible  is  expanded,  and  at  times  altered.  Esther  is  given  a 
feeling  of  pity  for  her  enemies.  She  begs  the  king  to  spare  Haman's 
life,  instead  of  demanding  that  his  ten  sons  be  hanged,  and  exerts 
herself  to  save  her  people,  but  not  to  gratify  their  desire  to  slaugh- 
ter their  enemies.  She  is  represented  in  the  early  part  of  the  play 
as  self-distrustful  and  willing  to  sacrifice  her  interests  to  those 
of  Vasthi.  Her  patriotism  is  secondary  to  her  humility  and  her 
reverence  for  Mardochee,  but  in  the  last  two  acts  she  shows 
decided  power  of  initiative,  outwitting  Haman  completely  and 
saving  her  people  in  masterly  fashion.  No  attempt  is  made  to 
explain  this  sudden  development. 


H4  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

A  corresponding  weakness  is  found  in  the  treatment  of  Haman. 
At  one  time  he  is  versed  in  diplomatic  tricks,  has  risen  to  high 
influence  with  the  king,  is  sought  out  by  Vasthi,  and  feared  by 
Mardochee;  at  another,  he  is  deceived  by  inexperienced  Esther 
and  brought  to  condemn  himself  by  his  hasty  advice.  His 
stupidity  here  is  particularly  unnatural,  as  he  has  just  been 
deceived  in  the  matter  of  Mardochee's  reward.  In  both  these 
scenes  he  is  a  comic  character,  a  sort  of  Patelin,  fallen  into  his 
own  traps,  to  the  joy  of  the  simple  public.  His  first  deception, 
however,  is  skilfully  prepared.  Bernardin1  notes  that  Du  Ryer 
surpasses  Racine  in  so  wording  the  king's  remarks  that  Haman 
might  reasonably  expect  the  reward  to  be  intended  for  himself. 
Moreover,  Du  Ryer  makes  Zethar  speak  of  rewards  when  he  sum- 
mons Haman  before  the  king. 2 

The  other  characters  are  more  like  their  Biblical  prototypes. 
Mardochee  is  the  strong  and  gloomy  patriot,  full  of  faith  in  God 
and  distrust  of  his  fellows ;  Vasthi,  the  wilful  and  heartless  queen, 
whose  pride  is  contrasted  with  Esther's  humility;  "Assuerus 
ou  Artaxerces, "  the  weak  monarch,  influenced  by  his  wives  and 
his  courtiers.  The  other  characters  are  Zethar,  who  is  merely  a 
messenger,  and  the  confidants  of  Esther  and  Haman.  The  only 
thing  to  be  noted  about  them  is  the  name  of  Thares,  which  Du 
Ryer  found  given  in  the  Vulgate3  to  one  of  the  eunuchs  who  con- 
spired against  the  king. 

Du  Ryer  makes  little  attempt  to  represent  Persian  manners. 
This  is  the  first  play  in  which  he  shows  marked  interest  in  court 
intrigue,  a  subject  that  has  great  importance  in  his  last  plays,  but 
the  court  is  that  of  his  own  time  rather  than  of  Ahasuerus's,  as 
can  be  seen  from  the  homage  paid  to  women,  the  necessity  that 
Esther  should  be  of  royal  birth,  the  king's  references  to  the  wel- 
fare of  the  state.  Furthermore,  Mardoch6e  calls  the  court  "vn 
theatre  ouuert  a  tous  les  artifices  ...  Ou  le  plus  defiant  est 
le  meilleur  acteur.  "4  Especially  noticeable,  as  illustrating  the 
influence  of  contemporary,  rather  than  Persian,  manners,  are 
Haman's  lines  on  religious  strife  in  a  state: 

"Car  enfin  quelle  flame  et  quels  malheurs  e"clattent 
Quand  deux  Religions  dans  vn  Estat  combattent? 
Quel  sang  6pargne-on,  ignoble  ou  glorieux 
Quand  on  croid  le  verser  pour  la  gloire  des  Dieux? 

1  Thedtre  c-implet  de  Jean  Ricine,  iv,  242.     2 IV,  4.     *  Liber  Esther,  n,  21.     «I,2. 


TRAGEDIES  115 

Alors  tout  est  permis,  tout  semble  legitime, 
Du  nom  de  Piete"  Ton  couronne  le  crime; 
Et  comme  on  pense  faire  vn  sacrifice  aux  Dieux, 
Qui  verse  plus  de  sang  paroist  le  plus  pieux."1 

The  first  extant  mention  of  Sceuole  occurs  in  an  acknowledg- 
ment, made  by  Moliere  and  other  members  of  the  Illustre  Thedtre, 
that  they  owed  to  Louis  Baulot  uoo  livres,  lent  them  to  settle 
the  indebtedness  incurred  by  their  purchase  of  plays  from  the 
"auteurs  du  Scevolle,  la  mort  de  Crispe  et  autres,  pour  servir  a 
leurdit  theatre,"  and  by  their  renting  a  "jeu  de  paume  ou  ils 
font  la  comedie  et  autres  affaires  de  leurdit  theatre."3  As  the 
document  is  dated  September  9,  1644,  it  is  certain  that  the  play 
was  written  as  early  as  that  year.  According  to  the  Mercure, 
it  was  played  at  the  H6tel  de  Bourgogne  in  1646.  Its  appearance 
in  Mahelot  also  shows  that  it  was  given  at  this  theater.  It  was 
probably  taken  to  the  provinces  by  Moliere,  for  we  find  that  his 
troupe  played  it  shortly  after  their  return  to  Paris,  on  June  7 
and  July  15,  1659,  and  on  January  I,  1660. 3  It  was  not  played 
again  by  these  actors  till  1678,  five  years  after  their  leader's 
death.4  They  gave  it  at  Fontainebleau  in  1681;  at  Versailles 
in  1682,  1683,  and  i685s;  at  the  newly  formed  Comedie  Franqaise 
nearly  every  year  from  1681  to  1695,  some  years  as  often  as  three 
times. 6  It  is  mentioned  in  the  Repertoire  des  comedies  fmn$oises 
qui  se  peuuent  jouer  en  1685,"*  where  it  is  listed  with  Rotrou's 
Venceslas,  Tristan's  Marianne,  and  a  number  of  Corneille's 
pieces,  as  the  only  tragedies  written  by  the  older  generation  of 
seventeenth-century  dramatists  that  were  still  represented. 

With  the  exception  of  one  representation  in  1698,  two  in  1704, 
and  one  in  1705,  it  was  played  no  more  at  the  Comedie  till  1721, 
when  it  was  revived  and  given  eleven  times.  In  1727  it  had  five 
representations,  one  in  1746,  four  in  I747-8  In  his  Parnasse 
Francois,  9  written  between  1726  and  1731,  Titon  du  Tillet  declares 
that  it  was  played  almost  every  year  at  the  court  and  at  Paris. 
Clement  and  1'abbe  de  la  Porte  say  that  it  was  still  played  in 

1 IV,  2.  Du  Ryer  seems  here  to  have  reached  a  tolerant  position  that  contrasts 
strongly  with  the  fanatical  lyrics  of  his  youth. 

1  Eudore  SouliS  in  Correspondance  litteraire,  January  25,  1865,  p.  84. 

*  La  Grange,  Registre,  pp.  7,  8,  14.  •»  Ibid.,  203. 
s  Ibid.,  266,  267,  293,  309,  345. 

6  Joannides,  La  Comedie  FranQaise  de  1680-1900. 

i  MS.  in  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale,  anc.  fonds  fr.  2509,  p.  7. 

*  Joannides,  op.  cit.  9  P.  249. 


u6  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

I775-1  Finally,  Voltaire,  in  a  letter  of  August  27,  1776,  states 
that  Lekain  will  play  it  at  Fontainebleau. a  Sceuole  is,  then,  one 
of  the  very  few  plays  written  by  Corneille's  contemporaries  that 
were  acted  for  more  than  a  century. 

Some  delay  in  its  publication  was  due,  perhaps,  to  its  having 
been  first  played  by  Moli&re's  obscure  troupe.  Although  acted 
as  early  as  1644,  the  privilege  was  obtained  only  on  August  31, 
1646,  and  the  work  finished  on  January  2,  1647.  The  Elzevirs 
issued  a  reprint  in  1654.  There  were  other  editions  in  1688, 
1705,  and  1737.  Marmontel  published  it  in  1773  as  one  of  the 
chefs-d'oeuvre  of  the  French  theater. 

Critical  opinion  seems  at  first  to  have  esteemed  it  less  highly 
than  Alcionee,  for  d'Aubignac,  Menage,  and  Saint-Evremond  fail 
to  mention  it,  though  they  praise  the  earlier  tragedy.  Chappu- 
zeau, 3  however,  cites  it  as  an  excellent  book  for  teaching  patri- 
otism to  young  men.  The  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  century 
critics  consider  it  Du  Ryer's  best  work.  The  following  notice  and 
criticism  of  a  representation  are  found  in  the  Mercure:* 

"Personnages  et  Acteurs. 

Tarquin,  Roy  des  Remains Le  sieur  Poisson  fils. 

Porsenne,  Roy  d'Etrurie Le  sieur  le  Grand. 

Arons,  fils  de  Porsenne,  amoureux  de  Junie,  Le  sieur  Q.  Dufresne. 

Junie,  fille  de  Brute,  amante  de  Scevole      .  La  Demoiselle  Duclos. 

Scevole,  amoureux  de  Junie Le  sieur  Baron. 

"Malgrd  1'air  gothique  de  cette  Piece,  les  expressions  suran£es,  et 
les  jeux  de  mots,  tout-a  fait  hors  d'usage,  elle  n'a  pas  laissd  d'  £tre 
goute"e,  et  de  faire  plaisir.  Les  sentimens  elevez  et  la  grandeur 
Romaine  s'y  font  sentir  £  chaque  instant.  C'est  dommage  que  1'action 
principale  et  le  fond  du  sujet  soit  un  assassinat.  Le  quatrieme  Acte 
a  extremement  plu.  Se  [Le]  sieur  Baron,  qui  declame  avec  beaucoup 
d'e"nergie,  peint  dans  un  recit  du  second  Acte,  Rome  afflige*e  et  re"duite 
aux  derniers  abois  par  la  famine,  qui  a  e*te"  fort  applaudi  .  .  .  Cette 
piece  fut  represented  dans  sa  nouveaut6  en  1646  par  la  Troupe  Royale 
de  l'H6tel  de  Bourgogne  et  eut  un  succe"s  prodigieux.  On  nous  assure 
que  les  quatre  principaux  r61es  e"toient  remplis  alors  par  Bellefleur, 
Blandimare,  Beau-Soleil,  et  Bellerose  (qui  jouoit  Scevole)  et  celui 


1  Anecdotes  dramatiques,  in,  176. 

*  Correspondence  generate.     I  am  indebted  for  this  fact  to  Philipp,  Pierre  Du 
Ryers  Leben,  83. 

J  Le  Theatre  Francois,  Paris,  1674,  p.  23. 
4July  18,  1721. 


TRAGEDIES  II7 

de  Junie,  par  une  Comedienne  en  reputation  pour  les  grands  roles 
Tragiques,  nomme'e  Duclos,  grand  mere  de  celle  qui  soutient  encore  au- 
jourd'hui  cette  reputation  avec  tant  d'e"clat  sur  la  Scene  Francoise." 

The  writer  goes  on  to  say  that  this  r61e  was  subsequently  taken 
by  the  Demoiselle  Beauval;  that  of  Tarquin,  by  Torilliere  pere; 
of  Porsenne,  by  Chammele;  of  Sceuole,  by  Baron. 

Titon  du  Tillet,  the  freres  Parfaict,  Mouhy,  and  La  Valliere 
consider  it  Du  Ryer's  leading  work.  The  last  critic  adds:  "Elle 
est  bien  conduite,  bien  versifiee,  et  les  caracteres  en  sont  grands 
et  sublimes.  Le  role  de  Junie  est  digne  de  Corneille. " l  Passages 
from  it  are  given  in  the  Bibliotheqtie  poetique.*  "J'ose  croire, " 
writes  Voltaire,  "que  VAstrate  de  Quinault,  le  Scevole  de  du  Ryer, 
V Amour  tyrannique  de  Scuderi,  bien  retablis  au  theatre,  pourraient 
faire  de  prodigieux  effets;"3  but  later  he  calls  it  an  "  antiquaille, " 
and  says,  "  Je  suis  persuade  qu'une  jeune  reine  qui  a  du  gout  ne 
sera  pas  trop  contente  de  ce  Scevola,  qui  n'est  qu'une  vieille  decla- 
mation digne  du  temps  de  Hardy."4 

Marmontel  has  a  different  opinion : 

"Quoique  trop  negligee  dans  son  style,  souvent  lache,  diffus, 
prosaique,  sans  couleur  et  sans  mouvement,  cette  piece  est  fort  su- 
perieure  a  toutes  celles  du  me"me  Auteur.  On  y  reconnott  visible- 
ment  le  ton  que  Corneille  donna  au  Theatre.  Les  caracteres  y  sont 
bien  dessine's  et  habilement  contrasted.  L'inte're't  me'me  en  est 
Cornelien,  s'il  est  permis  de  s'exprimer  ainsi :  1'amour  y  est  subordonne* 
a  1'heroisme  re*publicain,  non-seulement  dans  1'ame  de  SceVole,  mais 
dans  celle  de  Junie,  fille  de  Brutus.  Rien  n'y  inspire  la  pitie",  rien 
n'y  excite  la  terreur;  mais  il  y  regne  une  grandeur  de  sentimens  qui 
nous  dtonne. " 5 

Fournier  believed  in  1871  that  Sceuole  could  still  be  played 
with  success.6 

The  plot  of  the  tragedy  is  found  in  the  tenth,  twelfth,  and 
thirteenth  chapters  of  Livy's  second  book.  The  introduction  of 
Aruns,  son  of  Porsenne,  and  his  r61e  of  pacificator  seem  suggested 
by  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus. 7  Livy's  narrative  is  greatly  ex- 
panded, but  at  times  the  imitation  is  very  close,  especially  in 
the  speeches  of  Sceuole  after  his  capture. 8  To  the  list  of  persons 
given  above  by  the  Mercure  must  be  added  the  Etruscan  captains, 

1  Bibliotheque  du  Thedtre  fran$ois,  I,  514. 

2  Paris,  1745,  pp.  306-313.    The  citations  are  from  III,  4;  IV,  5;  V,  5. 

*  (Euvres  (Moland's  edition),  vn,  41.  4  Ibid.,  L,  78. 

*  Chefs  d'ceuvre  dramatiques,  preface  to  Scevole,  p.  vi.        6  Thedtrefranfais,n,  72. 
?  v,  ch.  30.  8  Cf.  Livy,  n,  12,  with  Sceuole,  IV,  5;  V,  4,  5. 


n8  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Marcile  and  Licine,  and  Fulvie,  the  heroine's  suivante.  The  scene 
is  laid  "dans  le  Camp  de  Porsenne  deuant  Rome."  According 
to  Mahelot1  the  representation  requires  "des  tante  [sic]  et  pauil- 
lons  de  guerre." 

The  first  act  exposes  the  situation  in  the  camp  of  Porsenne 
before  the  arrival  of  Sceuole.  Having  undertaken  to  restore 
Tarquin  to  his  throne,  Porsenne  has  defeated  the  Romans  in 
battle  and  has  begun  the  siege  of  the  town,  but  his  heart  is  not 
greatly  in  his  work,  for  he  is  constantly  irritated  by  Tarquin 's 
exactions  and  his  exhibitions  of  ingratitude.  The  two  kings  begin 
the  play  by  a  discussion  of  military  policy,  Tarquin  urging  an 
attack  upon  the  city,  Porsenne  preferring  to  starve  it  into  sur- 
render. When  the  latter  finally  agrees  to  the  assault,  he  learns 
that  Tarquin  has  anticipated  his  consent  by  allowing  his  men  to 
attack  the  bridge.  Marcile  brings  the  news  that  the  battle  has 
begun  and  that  both  sides  are  fighting  bravely.  Arons  then  comes 
to  tell  them  how  Horace  defended  the  bridge  and  swam  the  river. 
Tarquin  is  furious  to  think  that  the  Romans  have  escaped  him, 
while  Porsenne  turns  more  calmly  to  investigate  what  ravages 
hunger  has  made  upon  them.  With  this  in  mind,  he  has  Licine 
bring  in  a  Roman  maiden,  recently  captured,  who  is  found  to  be 
lunie,  daughter  of  Brute.  She  tells  them  that  she  has  not  been 
in  Rome  since  before  the  arrival  of  the  Etruscans,  and  that  she 
was  captured  in  a  temple,  where  she  was  praying  for  the  success 
of  the  Roman  arms,  but  she  is  confident  that  the  Romans  will 
never  surrender.  lunie's  manner  toward  Porsenne  is  respectful, 
but  she  does  not  attempt  to  conceal  her  hatred  and  contempt 
for  Tarquin.  Porsenne  promises  her  his  protection  and  puts  her 
in  charge  of  his  son,  Arons.  The  latter  tells  her  that  she  and 
Sceuole  are  the  only  Romans  dear  to  him,  that  he  is  still  in  love 
with  her,  but  that  he  fears  that  Sceuole,  who  saved  his  life,  has 
been  killed  in  battle. 

The  second  act  begins  with  a  monologue  in  which  lunie 
laments  her  city,  almost  reduced  to  surrender,  and  her  lover, 
supposed  dead : 

"Amour  de  la  Patrie,  6  belle  et  forte  chaisne 
Qui  dois  seule  enchaisner  le  coeur  d'vne  Romaine, 
Amour  de  la  Patrie  enfin  pardonne  moy 
Si  1'amour  de  Sceuole  y  regne  auecques  toy." 

*  Memoire,  folio  83. 


TRAGEDIES 


119 


She  is  interrupted  by  Fuluie,  who  tells  her  that  she  has  just  seen 
Sceuole  alive  in  the  camp  of  Porsenne.  He  was  armed  like  an 
Etruscan  and  exclaimed  that  lunie's  presence  put  an  obstacle 
in  his  path.  This  intelligence  changes  lunie's  grief  for  her  lover's 
death  into  fear  lest  he  be  a  traitor  to  Rome,  a  thing  that  her 
love  forbids  her  to  believe.  While  she  is  struggling  between  these 
feelings,  Sceuole  enters,  and  explains  that  his  purpose  in  coming 
to  the  camp  is  the  killing  of  Porsenne.  When  lunie  asks  if  Rome 
is  reduced  to  such  extremity  that  it  can  be  saved  only  by  an  assas- 
sination, he  describes  the  effects  of  the  famine: 

"La  le  fils  chancelant  de  foiblesse  et  d'ennuy 
Mettant  son  Pere  en  terre  y  tombe  auec[ques]  luy ; 
Icy  1'enfant  se  meurt  d'vne  mort  triste  et  lente 
Sur  le  sein  espuise  de  sa  mere  mourante, 
Et  la  mere  qui  voit  ce  spectacle  inhumain 
Se  meurt  en  mesme  temps  de  douleur  et  de  faim. " 

He  goes  on  to  recount  deeds  of  heroic  sacrifice  on  the  part  of  the 
citizens.  lunie  is  touched,  but  she  still  would  save  Porsenne,  to 
whom  she  is  grateful.  Sceuole  knows  that  the  Etruscan  king 
formerly  loved  lunie  and  wonders  if  that  is  why  she  wishes  him 
spared.  lunie  retorts  by  accusing  him  of  seeking  Porsenne's 
life  through  jealousy.  Sceuole  denies  this  charge,  and  tells  of 
his  taking  his  plan  to  the  Roman  Senate  and  receiving  their 
approval.  lunie  begs  him  to  give  her  time  to  speak  with  Porsenne 
before  he  kills  him,  for  she  may  be  able  to  save  Rome  by  means  of 
Porsenne's  love  for  her,  and  Sceuole  reluctantly  consents.  They 
retire  as  they  hear  the  approach  of  the  kings  and  their  suite. 
The  act  ends  with  a  scene  in  which  Porsenne  expresses  his  ap- 
prehension of  the  misfortune  indicated  by  a  sacrificed  animal,  and 
Tarquin  taunts  him  as  follows : 

"Done  vous  vous  figurez  qu'vne  beste  assomme'e 
Tienne  nostre  fortune  en  son  ventre  enferme'e, 
Et  que  des  animaux  les  salles  intestins 
Soient  vn  temple  adorable  ou.  parlent  les  Destins. 
Ces  superstitions  et  tout  ce  grand  mystere 
Sont  propres  settlement  &  tromper  le  vulgaire ; 
C'est  par  la  qu'on  le  pousse,  ou  qu'on  retient  ses  pas 
Selon  qu'il  est  vtile  au  bien  des  Potentats.  "x 

1 II,  4.  Philipp,  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  81,  compares  this  passage  with  Scude'ry, 
Mort  de  Cesar,  II,  4,  and,  after  Moland  and  Marmontel,  with  Voltaire,  CEdipe,  IV,  I. 
It  should  be  noted  that  this  does  not  indicate  that  Du  Ryer  shared  Voltaire's 
skepticism,  for  he  puts  the  verses  in  the  mouth  of  Tarquin,  the  play's  villain. 


120  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

When  Porsenne  expresses  his  disapproval  of  these  sentiments,  Tar- 
quin  goes  on  to  accuse  him  of  allowing  his  love  for  lunie  to  affect 
his  plans.  "Ces  Dieux  que  Ton  m'oppose  Sont  de  belles  couleurs 
qui  cachent  autre  chose. "  In  reply  Porsenne  accuses  Tarquin  of 
ingratitude  and  angrily  leaves  him,  while  Tarquin  soliloquizes  on 
his  own  pride  and  what  he  considers  Porsenne 's  pusillanimity. 

The  third  act  begins  with  a  debate  between  Arons  and  Marcile 
as  to  the  proper  policy  for  Porsenne.  The  king  hears  each  urge 
his  opinion,  much  after  the  manner  of  Cinna  and  Maxime  before 
Auguste.  Arons  says  that  his  father  has  shown  his  ability  to 
capture  Rome  and  begs  him  to  punish  Tarquin's  insolence  by  not 
doing  so.  Marcile  replies  that  to  raise  the  siege  would  be  an 
admission  of  guilt.  He  should  take  Rome  and  revenge  himself 
on  Tarquin  by  not  giving  it  to  him.  He  further  advises  him 
to  marry  lunie,  in  order  to  keep  the  Romans  in  subjection. 
Porsenne  is  wavering  between  the  two  plans  when  lunie  comes 
to  beg  him  to  raise  the  siege.  She  recites  the  crimes  of  the  Tar- 
quins  and  the  virtuous  deeds  of  the  Romans,  and  urges  him  to 
oppose  tyranny  rather  than  aid  it.  He  replies  by  asking  her  to 
marry  him,  or,  if  she  considers  him  too  old,  to  accept  the  hand  of 
his  son.  She  answers: 

"Mais  tourne  vn  peu  les  yeux,  voy  Rome1  et  luy  demande 
Ce  qu'il  faut  que  je  fasse,  et  ce  qu'elle  commande. 
A  quelque  grand  hymen  qu'on  m'aille  assujettir, 
Porsenne  c'est  ma  mere,  elle  y  doit  consentir. 
Parle-donc,  respons-nous  6  Rome  combatue; 
Dois-je  joindre  ma  main  &  la  main  qui  te  tue?" 

Left  alone  in  order  that  she  may  come  to  another  decision, 
lunie  is  found  by  Sceuole,  eager  to  know  the  result  of  her  interview 
with  the  king.  She  tells  him  that  despite  Porsenne's  greatness 
of  soul,  he  must  be  slain,  as  he  is  the  friend  of  a  tyrant.  She  suffers 
now  only  for  Sceuole,  whom  she  sends  into  danger,  assuring  him 
of  her  love  and  encouraging  him  to  die  for  Rome  : 

"le  t'ayme  et  ie  te  voy  d'vn  ceil  presque  enuieux 
Tenter  pour  le  pays  vn  peril  glorieux  .  .  . 
Va,  tu  ne  peux  mourir  d'vn  plus  noble  trespas, 
Mais  I'amour  peut-il  perdre  et  ne  souspirer  pas?" 

The  action  is  rapid  in  the  next  act.  Fuluie  comes  to  lunie 
with  the  report  that  some  one,  perhaps  hired  by  Tarquin  to  do 

1  The  original  has  "Horace, "  an  obvious  error. 


TRAGEDIES  121 

the  deed,  has  assassinated  Porsenne  and  then  made  his  escape. 
A  moment  later  Sceuole  crosses  the  stage,  pursued  by  Marcile. 
Soon  Sceuole  is  overpowered  and  led  back  by  Marcile  to  the  stage, 
where  he  meets  Arons  and  lunie  The  former  is  astonished  to  find 
that  the  friend  who  saved  his  life  has  attempted  to  assassinate  his 
father.  Gratitude  and  desire  for  vengeance  struggle  in  his  breast. 
Sceuole  tells  him  that,  in  spite  of  his  friendship,  he  would  have 
slain  him  as  well  as  his  father,  if  he  had  attempted  to  restore 
Tarquin.  When  he  is  told  that  Porsenne  is  alive  and  unhurt, 
Sceuole  laments  his  mistake  and  bids  Arons  punish  him  for  not 
accomplishing  his  mission: 

"  Prens  le  party  d'vn  pere,  et  pour  venger  ses  droits 
le  t'aquite  auiourd'huy  de  ce  que  tu  me  dois. 
le  suis  coupable  Arons ;  Mais  quoy  qu'on  delibere 
Mon  crime  est  seulement  d'auoir  manqu£  ton  Pere. 
O  Rome !  6  mon  pays  pardonne  cette  erreur, 
La  faute  est  de  mon  bras,  et  non  pas  de  mon  coeur. " 

lunie  praises  his  valor  and  envies  his  lot,  assuring  him  again  of 
her  love.  Arons,  who  now  learns  for  the  first  time  that  Sceuole 
is  his  rival,  is  left  to  decide  whether  he  ought  to  save  or  punish 
him. 

Tarquin  and  Porsenne  discuss  the  assassin's  identity.  The 
former  denies  indignantly  the  accusation  that  he  has  employed 
him,  and  asks  for  the  account  of  the  deed.  A  recit  is  avoided  by 
Porsenne' s  simple  reply  that  he  was  listening  to  some  warriors 
when  he  saw  the  sword  flash  and  Stace  fall  to  the  ground.  He 
knows  that  the  blow  was  intended  for  him,  as  he  heard  the  assassin 
say,  "meurs  Porsenne."  Sceuole,  brought  before  them,  replies 
to  their  questions  with  dignity  and  force: 

"le  suis  Romain,  Porsenne, 
Et  tu  vois  sur  mon  front  la  libert£  Romaine. 
I 'ay  d'vn  bras  que  1'honneur  a  tousiours  affermy 
Tasch£  comme  ennemy  de  perdre  1'ennemy.  .  . 
I'auois  conclu  ta  mort,  ordonne  tu  la  mienne? 
I'y  cours  d'vn  mesme  pas  que  i'allois  £  la  tienne. 
En  fin  ie  suis  Romain ;  et  de  quelques  horreurs 
Que  tu  puisses  sur  moy  signaler  tes  fureurs, 
Le  propre  des  Romains  en  tous  lieux  inuincibles, 
C'est  de  faire  et  souffrir  les  choses  impossibles. 
Frape  voila  mon  coeur ;  mais  ne  presume  pas 
Par  mon  sang  respandu  te  sauuer  du  trespas, 


122  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

D'autres  coeurs  que  le  mien  forment  la  mesme  enuie, 
D'autres  bras  que  le  mien  s'arment  centre  ta  vie, 
Et  mille  transported  d'vn  courage  aussi  fort 
Recherchent  comme  moy  la  gloire  de  ta  mort." 

Porsenne  is  amazed  at  Sceuole's  courage  in  the  presence  of  the 
king  whom  he  has  tried  to  murder  and  who  has  the  power  to  put  him 
to  death.  Tarquin  asks  why  Porsenne  was  attacked  rather  than 
he,  and  receives  the  bitter  answer  that  the  Romans  have  no  fear 
of  him,  a  "corps  sans  vigueur,"  while  Porsenne  is  a  real  obstacle 
to  Roman  liberty.  He  calls  on  the  latter  to  abandon  Tarquin, 
but  he  is  told  to  name  his  accomplices,  and  is  led  away  to  be 
tortured  when  he  refuses  with  the  proud  words: 

"Ne  les  demande  point,  ils  ne  se  cachent  pas, 
Us  se  vont  descouurir  par  ton  proche  trespas. " 

The  fifth  act  begins  with  a  monologue,  in  which  Arons  is 
wondering  what  to  do  with  regard  to  Sceuole,  when  lunie,  led 
in  by  the  guards,  offers  to  give  up  her  love  for  the  Roman  hero 
if  Arons  will  save  him.  Marcile  brings  word  that  the  fires  are 
lighted  and  all  is  ready  for  Sceuole's  torture.  Porsenne  follows 
him,  exclaiming  at  his  captive's  fortitude,  and  describes  how 
Sceuole  has  burnt  off  his  right  hand,  and  how  he  has  ordered 
further  torture  put  off  until  he  can  decide  what  to  do  to  so  brave 
an  enemy.  lunie  tells  him  that  this  is  what  he  may  expect  from 
all  Romans,  and  glories  in  having  encouraged  Sceuole  to  assas- 
sinate him.  Angered  by  her  bravado,  Porsenne  bids  Arons  con- 
tinue the  torture,  but  the  latter  tells  him  that  he  owes  his  life  to 
the  captive.  Porsenne  again  hesitates,  and  orders  Sceuole  to 
be  brought  before  him  for  the  final  decision. 

Sceuole  and  Tarquin  enter  simultaneously,  the  latter  blaming 
Porsenne  for  delaying  the  death  of  the  assassin,  the  former  advis- 
ing his  own  execution,  for  "il  me  reste  vne  main,  garde  qu'elle  ne 
s'arme. "  Porsenne  is  brought  by  the  impertinence  of  Tarquin  as 
much  as  by  the  valor  of  Sceuole  to  decide  the  matter.  He  emulates 
Sceuole  by  freeing  him,  returning  to  him  his  sword  and  bidding 
him  go  back  to  tell  the  Romans  that  he  fears  neither  them  nor 
him.  Overcome  by  this  magnanimity,  Sceuole  tells  Porsenne 
that  he  is  one  of  three  hundred  youths  who  have  conspired  against 
him  and  that  he  is  sure  to  fall  a  victim  to  one  of  them.  Porsenne 
again  bids  Sceuole  return  to  Rome.  Tarquin  demands  that 


TRAGEDIES 


123 


Sceuole,  as  his  subject,  be  delivered  to  him  for  punishment,  and, 
when  Sceuole  appeals  to  Porsenne,  he  accuses  the  latter  of  favor- 
ing his  enemies,  and  then  leaves  the  stage,  threatening  vengeance. 
Porsenne  is  thus  brought  to  his  final  decision,  which  makes  the 
denouement  of  the  play.  He  will  raise  the  siege  of  Rome: 

"La  liberte  de  Rome  est  enfin  ma  vengeance. 
Ce  sera  son  supplice,  et  ce  sera  ton  prix 
Pour  auoir  sceu  deffendre  et  conseruer  mon  fils. " 

Arons  shows  his  gratitude  to  Sceuole  by  surrendering  lunie  to  him, 
and  Porsenne  finds  their  marriage  an  appropriate  accompaniment 
to  the  rescue  of  Rome. 

This  play  is  distinctly  Cornelian.  The  political  subject 
from  Roman  history,  the  intense  patriotism,  the  elevated  tone, 
the  subordination  of  love  to  other  emotions,  the  appeal  to  admi- 
ration rather  than  pity,  the  eloquent  and  sententious  style,  all 
recall  the  works  of  Du  Ryer's  contemporary.  Sceuole  resembles 
Curiace;  lunie,  Emilie.  The  conflict  between  monarchical  and 
republican  ideas,  the  debate  of  Arons  and  Marcile  before  Porsenne, 
the  conspiracy  against  the  latter,  and  his  magnanimous  conduct 
towards  his  would-be  murderer  find  their  counterpart  in  Cinna, 
with  which  play  Sceuole  has  verbal  likeness  in  at  least  one  couplet. * 
It  is  worth  noting  that  the  play  in  which  Du  Ryer  resembled 
Corneille  most  closely  is  the  one  that  was  best  known  and  that 
remained  longest  on  the  stage. 

Classic  rules  of  structure  are  followed  in  the  main.  The 
time  represented  is  only  a  few  hours.  The  place,  which  is  in  the 
camp  of  Porsenne  before  Rome,  is  probably  limited  to  a  space 
between  the  king's  tent  and  lunie's,  although  the  exact  location 
is  left  vague.  The  unity  of  action  is  largely,  but  not  perfectly, 
preserved.  The  object  of  this  action  is  the  raising  of  the  siege 
of  Rome,  a  thing  that  is  accomplished  through  various  influences 
brought  to  bear  upon  Porsenne,  who  thus  becomes  the  central 
figure  of  the  play.  These  influences  are  primarily  his  admiration 
for  the  Romans,  excited  especially  by  the  deeds  of  Horace,  lunie, 
and  Sceuole,  and  his  disgust  at  the  insolent  ingratitude  of  Tarquin. 

1  Cinna,   I,     i:     "  Que  par  sa  propre  main  mon  pere  massacre" 

Du  trdne  oft  je  le  vois  fait  le  premier  degre'. " 

Sceuole,  III,  3:     "Tu  verras  qu'vn  grand  Roy  par  ses  coups  massacr6 
Du  throne  qu'il  vsurpe  est  le  premier  degre". " 

This  similarity  is  noted  by  Marmontel,  Chefs  d'ceuvre  dramatiques,  Scevole,  p.  109. 


124  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

They  are  shown  in  the  description  of  Roman  valor  made  in  the 
first  act,  lunie's  appeal  to  Porsenne  in  the  second,  the  heroism  of 
Sceuole  in  the  last  acts.  This  practical  exhibition  of  fortitude 
proved  to  Porsenne  more  clearly  than  anything  else  the  invincible 
spirit  of  the  Romans.  His  decision  must  also  have  been  influenced 
by  the  news  of  the  extensive  conspiracy  against  his  life,  less 
directly  by  his  love  for  lunie  and  his  gratitude  to  Sceuole  for 
saving  his  son's  life.  It  is  clear,  however,  that  these  things  were 
not  enough  to  decide  him,  for  it  was  Tarquin's  expressions  of 
ingratitude  and  his  insults  after  the  news  of  Sceuole's  pardon 
that  finally  brought  him  to  declare  in  favor  of  the  Romans.  The 
gradual  development  of  hostility  between  the  two  kings  is  skil- 
fully shown,  from  the  first  act,  in  which  Porsenne  argues  with 
Tarquin  but  yields  to  him,  to  the  fifth  act,  in  which  Tarquin 
leaves  the  stage  abandoned  by  his  former  protector.  The  pardon 
of  Sceuole  is  thus  immediately  connected  with  the  saving  of  Rome, 
for  it  is  the  final  cause  of  the  separation  of  the  kings. *  On  the 
other  hand,  lunie's  love  for  Sceuole  and  Arons's  love  for  her  are 
not  connected  with  the  action,  as  they  bring  about  neither  the 
freeing  of  Sceuole  nor  the  raising  of  the  siege.  Du  Ryer  un- 
doubtedly introduced  these  sentiments  to  add  interest  to  his  play 
and  to  give  rise  to  struggles  in  the  minds  of  important  persons, 
despite  the  fact  that  they  violate  the  unity  of  action. 

Out  of  respect  for  the  bienseances,  Du  Ryer  does  not  represent 
on  the  stage  the  burning  of  Sceuole's  hand,  for  such  a  represen- 
tation, if  not  ludicrous,  would  have  been  horrible  rather  than 
tragic.  Instead,  he  has  it  described  by  Porsenne  to  Arons  and 
lunie,  three  persons  intensely  interested  in  the  event.  The  only 
other  rfait  is  in  the  first  act,  where  the  action  is  not  yet  sufficiently 
rapid  to  be  retarded  by  it.  The  account  of  Sceuole's  attempt  to 
murder  Porsenne  is  told  with  the  greatest  brevity.  The  scene 
that  would  have  depicted  it  is  omitted  on  account  of  the  actual 
murder  it  involved;  but  all  acts  of  physical  violence  are  not 
excluded,  for  Sceuole  is  shown  defending  himself  as  he  tries  to 
escape  to  Rome  after  his  attempt  upon  the  king's  life. 

The  characters  are  arranged  somewhat  as  in  Esther,  with  the 
king  as  the  central  figure :  on  one  side  of  him  are  Tarquin  and  Mar- 
cile,  who  urge  him  to  take  Rome ;  on  the  other  are  Sceuole,  lunie, 

1  Marmontel  understands  that  the  object  of  the  play  is  the  deliverance  of  Rome, 
rather  than  the  pardon  of  Sceuole,  but  he  does  not  see  how  well  this  unifies  the  play. 


TRAGEDIES  125 

and  Arons,  who  advise  him  to  give  up  the  siege.  But  Porsenne 
is  a  nobler  figure  than  Assuerus.  He  embodies  the  most  admirable 
qualities  of  the  absolute  monarch.  He  seeks  to  restore  Tarquin 
because  he  believes  that  "qui  blesse  vn  Roy  seul  blesse  tous  les 
monarques. " '  He  is  a  prudent  and  successful  warrior,  a  worshipper 
of  the  gods,  a  grave  and  sagacious  ruler,  capable  of  inflicting 
torture  when  his  country's  interests  demand  it.  At  the  same 
time,  he  is  a  generous  foe,  who  admires  his  enemies'  valor,  an 
affectionate  father,  a  long-suffering  ally  of  Tarquin,  whom  he 
abandons  only  after  repeated  provocation.  It  is  unfortunate  that 
Du  Ryer  finds  it  necessary  to  have  him  in  love  with  lunie,  for 
this  sentiment  is  not  required  by  the  plot  and  makes  Porsenne 
ridiculous,  especially  when  he  so  readily  withdraws  his  suit  in 
favor  of  his  son. 

In  sharp  contrast  with  Porsenne  is  Tarquin,  overbearing 
toward  his  subjects,  ungrateful  and  insulting  towards  his  benefac- 
tor, impatient,  proud,  skeptical.  He  gives  us  Du  Ryer's  notion 
of  the  tyrant,  as  Porsenne  represents  his  ideal  monarch.  Marcile, 
a  warrior  and  messenger,  who  urges  Porsenne  to  take  Rome 
and  succeeds  in  disarming  Sceuole,  is  comparatively  unimportant. 
Indeed  these  two  characters  do  not  offer  strong  opposition  to 
the  Romans,  for  Tarquin  contributes  to  his  own  destruction  and 
Marcile  lacks  force.  There  would  be  little  struggle  in  the  play, 
were  it  not  that  the  sides  are  made  even  by  the  fact  that  Porsenne 
is,  at  the  beginning  of  the  play,  a  declared  enemy  of  Rome. 

On  the  other  side  are  the  Roman  lovers,  who  are  ready  to 
sacrifice  gratitude,  friendship,  love,  and  life  to  patriotism.  Sce- 
uole is  made  more  real  by  his  fears  that  the  presence  of  lunie  may 
prove  an  obstacle  to  his  performance  of  duty,  and  lunie  by  her 
tears  over  her  lover.  Both  are  conscious  of  their  virtues,  and  not 
slow  to  describe  them.  Each,  strange  to  say,  at  times  suspects 
the  other's  motives.  There  is  a  certain  circumspection  in  their 
relation,  for  lunie  has  made  Sceuole  suffer  her  "froideurs, "  and 
when  she  tells  him  of  her  love  he  does  not  know  whether  "pour 
m'exciter  tu  feignes  cette  flame, "  or  whether  "un  feu  veritable"2 
is  the  cause  of  it.  In  the  case  of  both,  love  pays  the  penalty  of 
subordination  to  another  emotion.  To  them  is  joined  Arons, 
unsuccessful  rival  of  Sceuole,  to  whom  he  owes  his  life,  and  who 
has  sought  to  murder  his  father.  The  introduction  of  this 

•  I,  i.  »III,  4. 


126  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

character  doubtless  enhanced  the  value  of  the  play  to  audiences 
desirous  of  seeing  in  noble  souls  the  conflict  of  admirable  emotions 
and  the  victory  of  unselfishness.  In  these  three  characters  and 
Porsenne,  there  is  a  constant  emulation  in  generosity,  a  series  of 
victories  over  love  that  gives  the  play  an  elevation  of  tone  worthy 
of  Corneille  and  thoroughly  in  keeping  with  the  spirit  ascribed 
to  the  Romans. 

Du  Ryer's  last  tragedy,  Themistocle,  was  probably  represented 
at  the  Marais  toward  the  end  of  1646  or  the  beginning  of  1647, 
and  held  its  own  against  Corneille's  Heraclius,  given  about  the 
same  time  at  the  H6tel  de  Bourgogne. *  Its  popularity  is  attested 
by  the  fact  that  it  was  published  three  times  at  Paris,  once  at 
Leyden,  and  once  at  Lyons. a  Seventeenth-century  writers  make 
no  special  criticism  of  it.  In  the  eighteenth  century  the  Bibli- 
othtque  poetique*  quotes  a  passage  from  the  first  scene  of  its  third 
act.  Marmontel4  finds  it  "compose  avec  sagesse  .  .  .  avec  une 
simplicite  assez  noble,  et  d'un  ton  assez  eleve, "  and  seems  to  rank 
it  with  Alcionee  as  next  to  Sceuole  among  Du  Ryer's  plays. 

The  source  of  the  play  is  Diodorus  Siculus.5  Du  Ryer  must 
have  been  familiar  also  with  Plutarch  and  Nepos,  but  Diodorus 
is  the  only  one  of  the  three  historians  who,  like  Du  Ryer,  speaks 
of  Xerxes  as  still  king  when  the  Athenian  hero  arrived  at  the  Per- 
sian court,  who  refers  to  the  efforts  of  Mandane,  the  king's  near 
relative,  to  get  vengeance  for  her  losses  at  Salamis,  and  who  makes 
the  king  marry  his  guest  to  a  Persian  woman  of  distinction.  The 
name  Artabaze  may  be  taken  from  Artaban,  a  Persian  dignitary 
mentioned  by  Diodorus6  and  Plutarch7;  that  of  Roxane,  a  con- 
fidante, from  Rhoxanes,  an  official  referred  to  by  Plutarch.8  Du 
Ryer  expands  the  story,  especially  in  the  plotting  against  the  hero 
and  the  testing  of  his  patriotism.  He  changes  it  most  noticeably 
in  the  denouement. 

The  first  two  acts  are  devoted  to  the  exposition,  made  chiefly 
by  a  series  of  dialogues  between  Roxane  and  other  persons. 

1  Cf.  freres  Parfait,  Histoire  du  the&tre  fransois,  vn,  97,  118,  and  their  quotation 
from  the  Dkniaist  of  Gillet  de  la  Tessonnerie  (Paris,  1648),  in  which  the  two  plays 
are  referred  to  by  rival  lovers:  "J'ai  fait  voir  &  Daphnis  dix  fois  He"raclius — Moi, 
vingt  fois  Themistocle,  et  peut-etre  encore  plus."  Its  absence  from  Mahelot's 
Memoire,  in  which  Heraclius  appears,  shows  that  it  was  probably  not  acted  at  the 
Hotel  de  Bourgogne. 

J  Cf.  Appendix  A.  J  Pp.  306-313.  «  (Euvres,  Paris,  1820,  vn,  417. 

'  xi,  chapters  57  and  58.  6  Chapter  59. 

i  Themistccles,  xxvn.  » Ibid.,  xxix. 


TRAGEDIES 


127 


She  relates  to  a  certain  Hydaspe,  newly  returned  to  court,  that 
Themistocle,  exiled  from  Greece,  has  been  kindly  received  by 
Xerces,  but  that  his  enemies,  jealous  of  the  favor  shown  him, 
have  accused  him  of  being  a  Greek  spy,  a  charge  that  he  is  this 
day  to  answer  before  the  king.  We  discover  that  Mandane  is 
plotting  against  Themistocle  for  destroying  her  lover,  Cambise, 
at  Salamis,  and  against  Artabaze,  the  king's  favorite,  who  seems 
to  be  a  friend  of  her  enemy.  But  Artabaze,  who  is  in  love  with 
Mandane' s  daughter,  Palmis,  and  has  pretended  friendship  for 
Themistocle  merely  because  he  thought  Mandane  favored  him, 
now  learns  her  real  purpose  and  promises  to  help  her  destroy 
Themistocle.  Mandane  promises  to  Artabaze  her  daughter  in 
marriage  if  he  can  succeed.  Roxane  and  Palmis,  on  the  other 
hand,  seek  to  save  Themistocle;  they  are  both  in  love  with  him, 
while  he  is  in  love  with  Palmis.  Just  how  the  conspirators  are 
seeking  to  undo  the  hero  is  not  made  clear,  but  we  may  infer 
that  they  are  responsible  for  the  charge  of  spying  which  has  been 
made  against  him. 

Such  is  the  somewhat  complicated  situation  at  the  beginning 
of  the  third  act,  where  the  dramatic  interest  commences.  Xerces 
enters  with  his  court  and  calls  upon  Themistocle  to  defend  him- 
self against  the  accusation  that  he  is  a  Greek  spy.  This  he  does 
eloquently  and  at  length,  explaining  that  the  harm  he  has  done 
to  Persia  was  the  result  of  his  patriotism,  that  the  talent  he 
displayed  is  now  at  the  king's  service.  It  is  absurd  to  think  that 
the  Greeks,  if  still  favorable  to  him,  would  have  sent  him  upon 
such  a  mission,  for  spies  are  not  made  from  generals.  Moreover, 
his  conduct  since  reaching  Persia  shows  the  falsity  of  the  charge. 
But  he  cares  little  to  "  traisner  plus  long-temps  vne  si  tristevie. " 
His  only  desire  is  to  defend  his  honor.  Xerces  replies  that  he  is 
sure  of  his  innocence,  bears  him  no  malice  for  his  former  deeds 
against  Persia,  and  is  anxious  to  have  him  for  a  subject.  He 
accordingly  bids  him  remain  at  court,  assuring  him  that,  while 
others  have  attacked  him,  Mandane  and  Artabaze  have  ever  been 
his  friends. 

The  trial  over,  Mandane  is  expressing  her  indignation  to 
Roxane,  when  Artabaze  brings  her  the  information  that  Xerces 
wishes  to  bind  Themistocle  to  his  interests  by  giving  him  the 
Princess  Palmis  in  marriage.  Both  conspirators  are  infuriated 
at  the  thought,  and  Mandane  is  ready  to  take  desperate  measures : 


128  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

"Ie  scauray  luy  monstrer  que  mon  sang  est  a  moy, 
Que  ie  puis  le  verser  par  vn  courage  extresme 
Renferme'  dans  ma  fille  aussi  bien  qu'en  moy-mesme." 

But  between  the  third  and  fourth  acts  she  makes  a  discovery  that 
changes  her  plans  completely.  She  reads  letters  from  Cambise 
to  Artabaze,  showing  that  the  former  was  in  love  with  another 
woman  at  the  time  of  his  death  and  that  Artabaze  helped  him 
to  deceive  her.  Her  wrath  is  therefore  now  directed  against 
Artabaze,  while  she  feels  only  gratitude  to  Themistocle  for  having 
slain  Cambise.  As  she  and  her  daughter  consent  to  the  marriage, 
for  which  Roxane  has  been  unselfishly  working,  Artabaze  would  be 
left  alone  in  opposition  to  it,  were  not  a  new  and  more  formidable 
obstacle  discovered.  Xerces,  when  he  promises  Palmis  to  The- 
mistocle, bids  him  prepare  to  lead  an  expedition  against  his 
ungrateful  country  and  thus  causes  the  fine  moral  struggle 
which  gives  the  play  its  value. 

Alone  with  Palmis,  Themistocle  talks  to  her  of  his  love  and 
the  impossibility  of  his  marrying  her,  if  it  means  treachery  to 
Greece.  Palmis  replies  that  Persia  is  now  his  country  and  that 
she  loves  him.  Themistocle  answers : 

"Enfin  si  vous  mayme's,  vous  digne  prix  d'vn  Roy, 
Estouffez  cette  amour,  ou  bien  cache's  la  moy, 
De  peur  que  ma  vertu  sans  vigueur  et  sans  armes 
Ne  se  laisse  corrompre  a  de  si  puissans  charmes." 

In  the  last  act  new  influences  are  brought  to  bear  upon  him. 
Both  Roxane  and  Mandane  beg  him  to  advance  his  own  interests 
and  overthrow  Artabaze'  s  machinations  by  obeying  the  king. 
Themistocle  also  considers  the  ingratitude  of  Greece  and  the 
kindness  he  has  received  in  Persia. 

"Nostre  pays  n'est  pas,  ou  Ton  m'oste  1'honneur, 
II  est  ou  nous  trouuons  la  gloire  et  le  bon-heur. " 

Finally  Artabaze  comes  to  tell  him  that  these  honors  are  merely 
offered  as  a  bribe,  and  will  not  be  given  him  after  the  war  is  over. 
He  advises  him  to  demand  payment  in  advance.  Themistocle 
sees  through  his  wiles  and  maddens  him  by  pretending  to  be 
about  to  accept  the  king's  offer.  In  doing  so,  he  delivers  an 
interesting  statement  of  cosmopolitanism : 


TRAGEDIES  129 

"Cette  amour  du  pays  n'est  qu'vne  erreur  vtile, 
Qu'vne  ruse  d'estat  necessaire  aux  estats 
Puis  que  sans  son  secours  ils  ne  fleuriroient  pas. 
Mais  ce  n'est  pas  ainsi  qu'vn  grand  coeur  se  resserre, 
II  ne  se  borne  pas  par  vn  morceau  de  terre, 
Et  comme  il  naist  au  monde  ou  ses  faits  sont  ouys 
II  croid  que  tout  le  monde  est  aussi  son  pays. 
Ainsi  toute  la  terre  egallement  cherie 
A  1'homme  magnanime  est  une  ample  patrie." 

To  Artabaze's  advice  that  he  should  demand  immediate  payment 
from  the  king  for  his  future  deeds,  he  replies  in  words  that  were 
probably  imitated  by  La  Rochefoucauld:1 

"Mais  il  est  bien  plus  noble  et  bien  moins  hazardeux 
D'estre  trompe  des  Roys,  que  se  deffier  d'eux." 

When  the  two  men  separate,  Themistocle  reflects  that  by 
yielding  to  the  king  he  can  conquer  Artabaze,  while  the  latter 
hastens  to  bring  against  his  rival  the  false  accusation  that  he 
distrusts  Xerces  and  wishes  to  marry  Palmis  before  attacking 
Greece.  The  king,  instead  of  taking  this  as  an  insult,  agrees  to 
the  immediate  celebration  of  the  marriage.  Themistocle,  sum- 
moned by  the  king,  is  told  that  he  will  first  marry  Palmis  and  then 
lead  the  new  expedition  against  Greece.  He  argues  that  the 
conquest  of  Greece  is  too  small  a  return  for  the  favors  that  he  has 
received,  and  begs  to  be  allowed  to  fight  for  the  king  against  other 
enemies,  adding  that  the  king  should  owe  the  conquest  of  Greece 
to  a  Persian  rather  than  a  Greek.  When  Xerces,  in  spite  of  these 
arguments,  insists  upon  his  leading  the  expedition,  Themistocle 
flatly  refuses: 

"le  scay  qu'apres  les  biens  ou  vous  m'auez  porte" 
le  dois  tout  iustement  a  vostre  majeste"; 
Mais  peut-on  quelquefois  en  sa  iuste  furie 
Promettre  iustement  le  sang  de  sa  patrie?" 

To  the  king's  warning  that  refusal  will  be  punished  with  death  he 
replies  that  he  is  ready  to  die,  regretting  his  seeming  ingratitude 
and  hoping  that  all  the  king's  criminal  subjects  may  be  like  him- 
self. Xerces  is  so  delighted  by  "ce  beau  refus"  that  he  pardons 
him,  promises  never  to  propose  the  expedition  to  him  again,  gives 
him  Palmis  for  wife,  and  bids  him  continue  to  reside  at  the  court. 

1  Maxim  LXXXIV:  "II  est  plus  honteux  de  se  ctefier  de  ses  amis  que  d'en  fitre 
trompe\  " 


130  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

From  this  analysis  it  is  seen  that  Du  Ryer  has  changed  Diodo- 
rus's  narrative  by  making  Mandane  the  sister  of  Xerces  instead 
of  his  cousin,  by  having  her  lover  instead  of  her  children  killed  at 
Salamis,  by  making  her  daughter,  Palmis,  the  woman  to  whom 
Themistocle  is  married,  by  substituting  a  happy  denouement  for 
the  hero's  suicide.  The  means  by  which  Mandane  becomes 
favorable  to  Themistocle,  the  charge  of  spying,  the  rivalry  for  the 
hand  of  Palmis,  and  all  the  r61e  of  Roxane  are  Du  Ryer's  additions. 
He  is  to  be  praised  for  the  emphasis  he  lays  on  the  struggle  in  the 
protagonist's  mind,  an  eminently  dramatic  motif  and  one  which, 
as  will  be  shown,  serves  to  unify  the  play. 

The  action  takes  place  in  a  few  hours  of  the  day  set  for  the 
trial.  The  scene  is  laid  in  one  or  two  rooms  of  the  royal  palace. 
The  exposition,  made  largely  by  a  series  of  confidences  to  the 
same  person,  is  neither  natural  nor  interesting.  Xerces  ought  to 
be  shown  early  in  the  play,  conferring  with  the  enemies  of 
Themistocle,  in  order  that  we  may  be  convinced  of  their  power. 
Mandane's  first  opposition  to  Artabaze  and  Roxane's  love  of 
Themistocle  do  not  advance  the  action.  There  are  two  main 
plots,  one  concerned  with  the  hero's  marriage  to  Palmis,  the  other, 
and  more  important,  with  his  command  of  the  expedition  against 
Greece.  The  two  are  united  by  the  fact  that  the  love  of  Themis- 
tocle for  Palmis  is  one  of  the  chief  emotions  opposed  to  his  patriot- 
ism. What  seem  at  first  to  be  independent  plots  are  connected 
with  one  or  the  other  of  these  themes. 

The  play  involves  more  than  the  safety  and  happiness  of  a 
single  individual,  for,  had  Themistocle  accepted  the  king's  offer, 
the  conquest  of  Greece  and  the  overthrow  of  Greek  civilization 
might  have  followed.  Patriotism  was  not  a  new  theme  on  the 
French  stage,  but  I  know  of  no  instance  in  which  it  is  put  to  the 
test  found  here.  Horace  and  Sceuole  were  simple  souls,  who 
risked  their  lives  to  save  a  grateful  country.  Even  Curiace,  with 
his  larger  humanity,  was  not  ill-treated  by  his  native  town. 
Themistocle  is  introspective,  subtle,  and  blase,  a  person  whose 
acquaintance  with  men  and  with  countries  has  destroyed  the 
freshness  of  early  enthusiasms.  He  has  been  exiled  by  Greece, 
protected  by  Persia.  He  is  in  love  with  a  Persian  princess.  By 
accepting  the  king's  offer,  he  can  find  love,  power,  the  joy  of  con- 
quering his  rivals  at  the  Persian  court  and  of  punishing  his  enemies 
at  home.  His  thorough  understanding  of  these  things  and  of  cos- 


TRAGEDIES  1 3 1 

mopolitan  philosophy  is  shown  in  his  last  conversation  with 
Artabaze.  That  patriotism  alone  against  all  these  desires  will 
triumph  in  the  breast  of  even  a  thoroughly  sophisticated  person 
is  the  thesis  which  Du  Ryer  demonstrates.  With  this  idea  in 
mind,  we  can  see  that  he  is  justified  in  introducing  a  number  of 
scenes  that  show  the  craftiness  of  Artabaze  and  the  fury  of  Man- 
dane,  for  his  hero's  sophistication  is  illustrated  in  part  by  the 
character  of  the  enemies  he  defeats. 

The  other  characters  are  typical  court  figures,  of  less  interest 
than  Themistocle.  Mandane  is  the  personification  of  pride,  as 
is  Artabaze  of  ambition.  The  former  is  ready  to  murder  or 
marry  her  daughter  in  order  to  avenge  herself  on  the  man  who  has 
humbled  her ;  the  latter  stoops  to  any  means  in  order  to  advance 
his  interests.  That  neither  of  them  is  punished  shows  that  Du 
Ryer  has  no  longer  a  liking  for  melodrama.  In  Palmis  he  again 
represents  a  princess  who  hesitates  to  express  her  love  on  account 
of  her  lover's  humble  birth.  In  Roxane  he  has  sought  to  give  a 
picture  of  perfect  self-sacrifice,  but  he  has  hardly  succeeded  in 
making  her  convincing.  She  recalls  Corneille's  Infante  or  Sabine, 
a  person  always  ready  to  suffer,  but  incapable  of  accomplishing 
anything  by  her  heroism.  Xerces  is  a  noble  figure.  We  regret 
that,  intelligent  and  magnanimous  as  he  is,  he  appears  so  seldom 
in  the  play. 

The  Mercure  of  July  18,  1721,  declares  that  Themistocle  is 
closely  imitated  by  Campistron  in  his  Alcibiade,  "non  settlement 
pour  la  conduite  totale,  mais  me"me  pour  quantite  de  Vers  copiez 
tout  de  suite."  The  fr£res  Parfaict1  mention  a  reply  made  in 
defense  of  Campistron  by  a  certain  Gourdon  de  Bach  de  Tou- 
louse, 2  who  finds  little  merit  in  Du  Ryer's  play  and  praises  Cam- 
pistron's  extravagantly,  denying  all  but  the  slightest  influence. 
Philipp3  has  shown,  however,  that  Campistron  was  undoubtedly 
influenced  by  Du  Ryer  in  the  general  plan  of  his  work,  in  several 
situations  and  characters,  and  even  verbally  in  more  than  one 
passage,  though  not  to  the  extent  indicated  by  the  author  of  the 
article  in  the  Mercure. 

The  freres  Parfaict4  and  Mesnard5  note  the  influence  of  this 
play  upon  a  passage  in  Andromaque.  Mandane  in  the  fourth 

1  Histoire  du  thedtre  fran$ois,  vu,  98. 

3  Cf .  Bibliolheque  fran$oise,  mai  et  juin,  1726,  pp.  20-27. 

J  Pierre  Du Ryers Leben,  88-97.     *0p.  cit.,  vu,  105.     « (Euvres de  J '.  Racine.ll,  Il8. 


132  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

scene  of  the  fourth  act  laments  that  Cambise  has  died  by  other 
hands  than  hers,  and  adds  the  wish 

"Que  ma  main  acheuast,  qu'il  mourut  a  ma  veue 
Et  qu'il  sceut  en  mourant  que  cest  moy  qui  le  tue. " 

Similarly  Oreste  tells  Hermione  that  he  understands  the  vengeance 
she  has  desired: 

"  Vous  vouliez  que  ma  main  portat  les  premiers  coups, 
Qu'il  sentft  en  mourant  qu'il  expirait  pour  vous;"1 

and  Hermione  says  to  Oreste: 

"Ma  vengeance  est  perdue 
S'il  ignore  en  mourant  que  c'est  moi  qui  le  tue."a 

Du  Ryer's  play  does  not  appear  to  have  influenced  the  Themis- 
tocle  of  the  p&re  Foulard,  published  at  Lyons  in  1729,  or  the 
Temistocle  of  Morei,  published  at  Rome  in  1728.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  undoubtedly  influenced  both  Zeno3  and  Metastasio4 
in  their  plays  of  this  name.  Besides  other  resemblances,5  both 
of  these  plays  have  the  happy  ending  which  is  not  found  in  the 
Greek  and  Latin  authors  who  tell  the  story. 6 

'V,3.  -IV,  4. 

» Zeno's  play  was  published  at  Venice  in  1744. 

*  Metastasio's  tragedy  was  first  played  in  1736. 

*  Both  in  plot,  characters,  and  names  the  Italian  plays  are  nearer  Du  Ryer's 
than  they  are  to  the  ancient  narratives.     The  situations  of  Zeno's  play,  II,  2,11,  4, 
and  III,  2,  are  especially  near  those  of  Du  Ryer's. 

6  In  the  argument  to  his  play  Zeno  cites  Cornelius  Nepos  to  show  the  falsity  of  the 
tradition  that  his  hero  died  by  drinking  bull's  blood.  Some  of  Metastasio's  editors, 
reading  the  citation  carelessly,  attribute  the  whole  argument  to  Nepos,  and  thus 
create  the  erroneous  impression  that  the  Roman  historian  is  the  source  of  these  plays. 


CHAPTER  V. 

LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES. 

The  plays  discussed  in  this  chapter  are  Berenice,  published 
before  Sceuole,  and  the  last  three  plays  that  Du  Ryer  wrote, 
Nitocris,  Dynamis,  and  Anaxandre.  The  four  are  called  tragi- 
comedies because  they  are  written  on  a  less  elevated  plane  than 
the  tragedies,  have  fictitious  plots  without  persons  of  distinct 
historical  importance,  treat  of  love  as  their  chief  emotion,  do 
not  exclude  comic  passages,  end  happily,1  and  are  largely  free 
from  death  or  the  danger  of  it.2  At  the  same  time  they  show 
the  influence  of  tragedy  in  the  observation  of  rules  of  unity  and 
propriety  and  in  the  subordination  of  the  plot  to  the  study  of 
character.3  They  thus  combine  characteristics  of  the  author's 
early  tragi- comedies  with  those  of  his  tragedies  to  make  a  type 
that  may  be  called  classical  tragi-comedy,  a  hybrid  form,  which 
sacrifices  the  variety  of  one  model  without  gaining  the  strength 
and  elevation  of  the  other. 

Berenice, 4  the  first  of  these  plays,  is  written  in  prose,  a  form 
which  the  author  discusses  in  the  following  introduction : 

"I'ay  fait  bien  plus  que  ie  ne  pensois,  puisque  i'ay  fait  en  Prose  vne 
piece  de  Theatre,  et  qu'elle  n'a  pas  este'  desagreable.  Car  encore  que 
i'ayme  la  Prose,  et  que  ie  1'esleue  par  dessus  les  Vers  autant  que  les 
choses  vtiles  doiuent  1'emporter  par  dessus  les  delectables,  ie  n'ay 
pourtant  iamais  crti.  qu'elle  put  paroistre  sur  Ie  Theatre  auec  les 
mesmes  effets  et  la  mesme  magnificence  que  les  Vers.  Si  i'ay  tousiours 
estime'  que  c'est  vn  jeu  de  hasard  que  de  faire  des  Comedies,  ie  suis 
particulierement  de  cette  opinion  pour  ce  qui  concerne  les  pieces  en 
Prose.  Et  certes  nous  en  voyons  peu  qui  en  ayent  fait  deux  auec  Ie 
mesme  succez,  et  £  qui  1'euenement  de  la  seconde  n'ait  oste*  une  partie 

1  This  fact,  taken  alone,  would  not  distinguish  them  from  half  of  the  author's 
tragedies. 

1  The  only  persons  in  them  who  die  are  the  two  villains  of  Dynamis. 

JThis  is  not  altogether  true  of  Dynamis,  which,  with  Clarigene,  stands  between 
the  early  tragi-comedies  and  the  other  three  treated  in  this  chapter. 

« Paris,  1645,  "auec  priuilege."  The  dates  of  this  privilege  and  of  the  achcvl 
d'imprimer  are  not  given. 

133 


134  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

de  la  reputation  de  la  premiere.  Quoy  qu'il  en  soit,  c'est  vne  course 
que  ie  ne  voudrois  pas  deux  fois  entreprendre ;  et  i'ayme  mieux  me 
reposer  au  bout  le  la  carriere  auec  vn  peu  de  gloire  que  de  la  recom- 
mencer  auec  hasard." 

This  philistine  doctrine  of  the  superiority  of  the  useful  over 
the  delectable  may  be  given  by  Du  Ryer  in  vindication  of  the 
excessive  amount  of  translation  that  he  had  begun  before  I645-1 
His  use  of  prose  in  this  play  is  probably  due,  not  only  to  the 
example  of  his  translations,  but  to  the  small  amount  of  time 
these  left  him  for  composition  in  verse.  Whatever  the  cause  of 
his  experiment,  he  doubted  its  wisdom  and  kept  his  promise 
not  to  repeat  it.  As  he  intimates,  he  was  not  the  first  person  who 
had  tried  prose,  for  full-length  comedies  and  tragi-comedies  in 
prose  can  be  found  as  early  as  the  sixteenth  century,  while  Du 
Ryer's  contemporary,  Puget  de  la  Serre,  had  already  written  five 
prose  tragedies,2  and  Scudery's  prose  tragi-comedy,  Axiane,  had 
been  published  in  1644. 

The  source  of  Berenice  is  unknown.  The  play  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  historical  Berenices,  with  Racine's  tragedy,  or 
with  the  romance  of  the  same  name  by  Segrais.  It  shows  some 
resemblance  to  the  story  of  Sesostris  and  Timarette,  told  in  the 
sixth  volume  of  the  Grand  Cyrus  and  subsequently  dramatized 
by  Thomas  Corneille  in  his  Berenice.3  As  Du  Ryer's  play  was 
written  before  the  Grand  Cyrus,  it  can  not  have  been  influenced 
by  it,  nor  does  a  comparison  of  the  two  works  indicate  that 
Mile  de  Scude'ry  took  her  plot  from  Du  Ryer.  It  is  possible 
that  there  is  a  common  source,  at  present  unidentified.  Thomas 
Corneille  may  have  taken  from  Du  Ryer  the  name  of  his  heroine 
and  some  suggestions  for  her  character,  the  only  respects  in  which 
he  is  nearer  to  Du  Ryer  than  he  is  to  Mile  de  Scudery. 4 

1  The  year  in  which  the  play  was  published.  It  was  probably  represented  for  the 
first  time  a  year  or  two  before. 

'  Pandoste,  1631;  Le  Pyrame,  1633;  Thomas  Morus,  1642;  Le  Sac  de  Carthage, 
1643;  Sainte  Caterine,  1643.  J  Cf.  Philipp,  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  p.  87. 

*  The  three  accounts  have  in  common  the  substitution  of  infants,  the  bringing 
up  of  the  princess  in  ignorance  of  her  royal  birth,  the  proof  of  her  identity  through  a 
letter  written  by  her  dying  mother:  but  in  Scude'ry  and  Corneille  there  are  two 
independent  substitutions  to  Du  Ryer's  one,  two  foster  fathers  to  one,  a  rival  noble, 
a  rival  princess,  and  several  confidantes  whom  Du  Ryer  omits;  the  obstacles  in  the 
lovers'  way  are  furnished  by  difference  in  rank  and  the  intrigues  of  an  ambitious  noble- 
man, instead  of  supposedly  incestuous  love  and  the  rivalry  of  father  and  son.  Thomas 
Corneille's  plot  depends  on  chance  events,  a  shipwreck,  an  enlevement,  a  conspiracy, 
the  convenient  return  of  a  foster-father,  the  remarkable  discovery  of  a  lost  note, 
while  Du  Ryer's  play  is  simple,  united,  more  dependent  on  character  than  events. 


LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES  135 

The  plot  is  based  on  a  father's  substitution  of  infants.  The 
king  of  Crete,  many  years  before  the  time  represented  in  the 
play,  had  sent  his  pregnant  queen  to  Sicily  for  safety  while  he 
was  engaged  in  war.  Dwelling  there  at  the  house  of  Criton,  a 
nobleman,  she  had  given  birth  to  a  daughter  a  few  days  before 
her  host's  wife  brought  forth  a  son.  As  the  queen  soon  died  and 
as  Criton  knew  that  a  son  was  much  desired  by  the  king,  he  sent 
to  Crete  his  own  infant,  Tarsis,  while  he  kept  Berenice,  the  king's 
daughter,  and  brought  her  up  as  his  own  child.  When  the  chil- 
dren were  grown,  Criton,  persecuted  by  the  Sicilian  ruler,  took 
refuge,  in  his  turn,  at  the  court  of  the  king  of  Crete,  now  at 
peace,  who  received  him  most  cordially  with  his  supposed  daughter, 
Berenice,  and  his  real  daughter,  Amasie. 

Du  Ryer  does  not  inform  us  of  these  romantic  facts  till  the 
end  of  the  play.  They  are  necessary  to  the  denouement  and  to 
the  initial  idea  of  the  play,  but  they  are  not  otherwise  used. 
The  interest  is  sustained  almost  purely  by  the  study  of  the  charac- 
ters and  the  series  of  emotional  states  through  which  they  pass. 
The  play  begins  after  Criton  has  dwelt  five  years  in  Crete.  The 
scene  is  laid  in  two  buildings  on  this  island :  one,  the  royal  palace ; 
the  other,  the  house  inhabited  by  Criton  and  his  daughters,  which 
has  a  garden  on  one  side  of  it.  Berenice  and  Tarsis  have 
fallen  in  love  with  each  other;  Amasie  and  a  courtier,  Tirinte, 
have  done  the  same.  This  situation  is  made  known  to  us  during 
the  first  act  by  a  conversation  between  the  sisters,  in  which 
Berenice  reproaches  Amasie  for  stooping  to  a  man  of  lower 
position  than  theirs,  while  she  defends  her  own  conduct  by  the 
argument  that  kings  and  gods  may  love  those  in  a  rank  beneath 
them.  Towards  the  end  of  the  act  their  difficulties  begin  with 
their  father's  telling  them  that  for  some  hidden  reason  they 
must  leave  the  country.  Tarsis,  informed  of  the  projected  de- 
parture, assures  Berenice  that  he  will  prevent  it  by  appealing  to 
the  king. 

But  it  is  soon  discovered  that  the  king,  far  from  helping  his 
son  in  his  love  for  Berenice,  is  the  chief  obstacle  to  their  union, 
for  he  loves  her  himself  and  has  already  sent  Tirinte  to  ask  for 
her  in  marriage.  He  is  now  indignant  at  learning  that  Criton 
refuses  his  consent  to  this  alliance  and  discusses  with  Tirinte  what 
reason  he  can  have  for  so  doing.  Before  Criton  comes  to  explain 
his  refusal,  Tarsis  requests  that  he  be  prevented  from  leaving 


136  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Crete.  He  tells  his  father  of  his  love  for  Berenice  and  begs  that 
he  be  allowed  to  marry  her.  The  king  is  surprised  to  find  that 
his  son  is  his  rival,  but  he  conceals  his  own  sentiments,  answers 
Tarsis  evasively  concerning  the  marriage,  and  assures  him  of  his 
desire  to  keep  Criton  and  Berenice  from  going  away.  Left  alone 
with  Tirinte,  the  king  tells  him  that  he  now  understands  that  it 
is  Criton's  hope  of  marrying  Berenice  to  the  prince  that  makes  him 
reject  his  suit,  but  that  he  will  wed  the  girl  in  spite  of  him.  Tarsis 
may  marry  Amasie  in  compensation  for  the  loss  of  Berenice.  This 
last  plan  tends  to  connect  the  subordinate  plot  with  the  main 
plot,  for  Tirinte's  love  of  Amasie  now  conflicts  with  his  duty  as 
agent  in  the  king's  love  affair.  The  second  act  ends  with  Tirinte's 
telling  Amasie  his  distress  over  the  king's  plan  to  marry  her  to 
his  son. 

In  the  third  act  a  letter  from  Tarsis  to  Berenice,  informing  her 
of  his  father's  ordering  him  to  depart  on  the  morrow  for  Cyprus, 
is  found  by  Criton  in  the  hands  of  Amasie,  who  is  accordingly 
suspected  of  being  the  object  of  the  prince's  affections.  In 
order  to  shield  her  sister,  Amasie  lets  her  father  think  that  Tarsis 
is  her  lover,  while  Berenice  continues  the  deception,  as,  by  so 
doing,  she  can  see  Tarsis  freely,  ostensibly  in  order  to  urge  him 
to  give  up  Amasie.  When  she  sees  her  lover,  he  tells  her  that 
his  father's  rivalry  is  the  cause  of  his  leaving  Crete.  Berenice 
begs  him  to  give  her  up,  for  she  is  unwilling  to  separate  father  and 
son,  but  at  the  same  time  she  promises  to  remain  faithful  to  him 
while  he  is  away. 

Tirinte  begins  the  fourth  act  by  bringing  to  Amasie  the  king's 
proposal  to  marry  her  to  Tarsis.  He  asks  her  whether  he  must 
make  the  proposition  to  her  father  and  thus  sacrifice  his  own  love 
for  her.  She  replies  by  assuring  him  of  her  love  and  bidding  him 
do  as  he  thinks  best,  whereupon  his  sense  of  duty  to  the  king 
prevails.  He  is  about  to  go  to  find  Criton,  when  Tarsis  comes 
with  the  news  that  the  king  has  allowed  him  to  postpone  his 
voyage  in  consequence  of  his  pretending  to  give  up  Berenice  for 
Amasie.  This  confidence  precipitates  a  discussion  between  the 
two  friends,  in  which  Tarsis  begs  Tirinte  not  to  deliver  the  king's 
message  to  Criton,  while  Tirinte  warns  the  prince  against  feigning 
love  for  Amasie.  They  are  interrupted  by  Berenice,  who  informs 
them  that  her  father  has  determined  to  return  to  Sicily.  Finally 
Criton  makes  the  terrible  disclosure  that  Tarsis  is  his  son : 


LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES  137 

"  Criton:  Elle  est  de  mesme  condition  que  vous. 
Tarsis :  Pourquoy  done  ne  puis- je  1'aimer? 
Criton:  Parce  qu'elle  est  vostre  soeur,  et  que  sa  mere  estoit  vostre 

mere.     Cela  vous  estonne.     le  n'en  doute  point. 
Tarsis :  Et  Criton  seroit  mon  pere.     Et  Berenice  seroit  ma  sceur ! " 

Of  course  the  audience  does  not  know  that  Berenice  is  really 
the  daughter  of  the  king,  while  Criton,  who  does  know  this,  has 
been  deceived  by  the  letter  into  believing  that  it  is  Amasie 
whom  Tarsis  loves.  A  letter  discovered  by  chance  and  the  fact 
that  in  the  interview  with  his  son  Criton  spoke  of  his  daughter 
without  mentioning  her  name  are  thus  the  weak  supports  to  an 
interesting  situation,  treated  in  masterly  fashion.  In  Argenis 
and  Cleomedon  Du  Ryer  had  used  the  discovery  of  relationship 
as  a  convenient  means  of  ridding  the  hero  of  a  formidable  rival. 
Arcombrotte  and  Celiante  had  each  given  up  the  love  he  had  borne 
his  sister  as  soon  as  he  learned  who  she  was.  This  is  absurd. 
Either  the  audience  has  been  deceived  as  to  the  strength  of  the 
passion  the  men  felt  before  the  discovery,  or  this  passion  must 
continue,  mingled  with  horror  at  the  thought  of  its  unlawful 
nature.  Here  there  is  an  opportunity  for  a  study  of  passion  that 
Du  Ryer  had  previously  neglected  and  which  he  now  grasps. 
By  the  introduction  of  the  letter  he  so  arranges  his  play  that 
Criton' s  mistake  as  to  which  daughter  his  son  loves  leads  to  his 
disclosing  only  half  the  truth  and  leaving  Tarsis  with  the  knowl- 
edge that  he  is  Criton's  son,  but  without  the  information  that 
Berenice  is  the  king's  daughter.  Thus  for  several  scenes  we  have 
an  intensely  dramatic  struggle  in  the  souls  of  the  lovers. 

Two  monologues,  a  dialogue  between  the  sisters,  and  another 
between  the  lovers  themselves,  show  us  this  struggle.  Finally 
Tarsis  begs  Berenice  to  marry  the  king  and  take  the  throne  to 
which  he  no  longer  has  a  right,  but  she  refuses  to  deprive  him  of 
it  and  bids  him  farewell.  The  king  enters,  impatiently  awaiting 
Criton's  decision.  When  all  the  characters  are  present,  Criton 
explains  who  Tarsis  and  Berenice  really  are.  He  had  feared  to 
make  this  disclosure  sooner,  lest  his  son  should  lose  his  royal 
position  and  he  should  himself  be  punished  for  his  misrepresenta- 
tions. His  testimony  is  supported  by  a  letter,  left  by  the  dying 
queen,  which  states  that  her  child  was  a  girl.  The  king  rec- 
ognizes the  writing  and  accepts  Criton's  testimony.  To  our 
surprise,  he  not  only  acknowledges  Berenice  as  his  daughter ,  but 


138  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

marries  her  to  Tarsis  and  pardons  Criton,  whom  he  even  thanks 
for  having  provided  him  with  so  noble  a  warrior  as  his  son. x 

The  structure  of  the  play  shows  a  unity  absent  from  the 
author's  earlier  tragi-comedies.  The  time  of  the  action  can  not 
be  established  with  absolute  certainty,  but  it  appears  to  cover 
only  a  few  hours.  The  place  has  the  unity  of  the  two  houses. 
The  action  is  simple  and  intense.  Its  unity  is  slightly  violated  by 
a  subordinate  plot,  concerned  with  the  love  of  Tirinte  and  Amasie, 
which  is  connected  with  the  main  plot  by  the  king's  threat  to 
marry  Tarsis  to  Amasie,  but  which  has  no  effect  upon  it.  It 
serves  to  characterize  these  subordinate  lovers  and  to  lift  them  out 
of  the  commonplace  r61es  of  messenger  and  confidant  which  they 
would  otherwise  have  filled. 

The  denouement  is  the  result  of  what  has  gone  before,  for 
Criton,  the  only  person  who  knows  the  facts  necessary  to  the 
solution  of  the  problem,  would  not  compromise  himself  by  reveal- 
ing the  true  situation  unless  forced  to  do  so  by  the  events  of  the 
play.  Here  Du  Ryer  shows  greater  ability  than  he  had  done  in 
Clarigene,  where  the  discovery  of  the  needed  facts  is  due  to  the 
chance  return  of  a  lost  son  and  daughter. 

From  this  point  of  view,  Berenice  is  a  tragi-comedy  of  char- 
acter in  which  the  action  depends  on  Criton,  who  is  willing  to 
deceive  grossly  until  he  sees  that  incest  will  be  the  result  of  his 
deception,  and  on  the  king,  who  must,  in  order  to  bring  about 
the  denouement,  be  as  magnanimous  in  the  end  as  he  was  at 
first  self-seeking.  But  Du  Ryer  fails  to  develop  these  two  essen- 
tial personalities.  Instead  of  emphasizing  their  rdles  so  that  the 
clash  of  their  characters  would  fill  the  play,  he  introduces  Criton 
into  only  five  scenes,  the  king  into  only  four.  They  are  not 
brought  face  to  face  till  the  last  act.  We  are  not  shown  the 
struggle  in  the  soul  of  Criton,  who  remains  for  us  an  enigmatic 
character  until  his*  confession  to  Tarsis.  We  are  not  shown  the 
meeting  between  the  king  and  his  son,  in  which  the  latter  is  told 
that  his  father  is  his  rival.  Such  scenes  as  these  would  have 


1  M.  Gustave  Reynier  in  his  Thomas  Corneille,  sa  vie  et  son  theatre,  Paris,  1892,  p. 
127,  declares  that  "Du  Ryer  avait  fait  jouer  en  1635  [sic]  une  Berenice  en  prose,  qui 
n'eut  guere  de  succes  et  dont  la  lecture  est  fort  rebutante. "  The  error  in  the  date, 
which  also  occurs  on  page  117,  the  unfounded  statement  about  the  play's  success, 
and  especially  the  absurdity  of  the  last  clause  make  me  believe  that  M.  Reynier  has 
not  read  the  play  himself,  but  is  relying  upon  some  untrustworthy  eighteenth-  or 
nineteenth-century  history  of  the  French  theater. 


LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES  139 

explained  these  persons  and  brought  them  more  prominently 
before  us.  As  it  is,  we  do  not  understand  how  the  king  substitutes 
for  his  incestuous  passion  an  intelligent  spirit  of  pardon  and 
affection;  while  no  proper  emphasis  is  laid  on  the  fact  that  Cri- 
ton's  deception  of  the  king  is  due  to  personal  ambition  rather 
than  to  love  of  his  son.  He  is  stern  with  his  daughters,  cruelly 
direct  in  his  revelations,  a  crafty,  unlovely  old  man,  yet  I  doubt 
if  the  hardness  of  his  character  is  sufficiently  evident  in  a  repre- 
sentation of  the  play.  It  should  be  made  clearer  that  he  is  eaten 
up  with  ambition.  We  ought  to  see  the  struggles  through  which 
he  passes  before  he  brings  himself  to  confess  the  truth. 

The  characterization  of  the  lovers  is  more  admirable.  The 
two  sisters,  neither  of  them  a  stranger  to  the  seventeenth-century 
salon,  contrast  effectively  with  each  other.  Berenice,  who  has 
inherited  an  aristocratic  view  of  social  adjustments,  accepts  as  her 
right  her  sister's  sacrifice  and  reproaches  her  for  loving  a  man 
beneath  her  in  rank.  She  is  a  Cornelian  heroine,  to  whom  love 
means  the  aspiration  towards  what  is  in  all  respects  noble  and 
whose  passion  must  be  given  up  if  its  gratification  is  not  in  accord- 
ance with  her  own  honor  or  the  welfare  of  her  lover.  On  the  other 
hand,  Amasie  resembles  the  heroine  of  Clarigene.  Her  love  takes 
no  thought  of  her  own  "gloire"  or  her  lover's  rank.  She  is  more 
resourceful,  more  playful,  wiser,  and  more  considerate  than  her 
intense  sister,  for  whom  she  is  ready  to  efface  her  own  chance 
of  happiness.  Few  of  Du  Ryer's  subordinate  rdles  are  so  clearly 
delineated. 

Tarsis  is  too  much  the  courtier  for  his  reputation  as  a  warrior. 
He  is  deceived  by  his  father  and  unable  to  avoid  banishment 
except  by  pretending  to  surrender  Berenice.  He  lacks  fortitude 
and  is  ineffectual  in  his  devices,  but  we  appreciate  his  genuine 
passion,  which  is  too  strong  to  be  obliterated  by  the  report  that 
Berenice  is  his  sister.  Tirinte  is  of  less  importance.  His  r61e, 
normally  that  of  the  king's  confidant  and  messenger,  is  given 
interest  by  his  love  for  Amasie. 

While  the  tone  of  the  play  does  not  reach  the  elevation  of  the 
tragedy,  there  is  little  of  the  comedy,  either  in  humor  or  study 
of  manners.  A  few  evidences  of  preciosite,  a  tendency  to  state 
general  truths,  an  acceptance  of  monarchical  principles,  are  the 
nearest  approach  to  a  representation  of  contemporary  French 
manners,  which,  of  course,  were  probably  not  those  of  the  island 


140  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

of  Crete  at  this  undetermined  moment  in  its  history.  There  is 
no  laughter  in  the  play,  only  an  attempt  at  pleasantry  when 
Amasie  teases  her  sister  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  act.  The  use 
of  prose  does  not  injure  the  value  of  the  work,  as  Du  Ryer  writes 
here  with  a  simple  directness  often  absent  from  his  verse.  Affec- 
tation is  not  altogether  avoided,  however,  for  Tarsis  in  the  midst 
of  his  sorrow  exclaims,  "C'est  ma  sceur,  ce  fut  mon  amante,  ie 
1'ay  perdue  sans  que  ie  la  perde,  et  ie  la  gaigne  sans  la  gaigner. "' 
There  is  a  noteworthy  sententiousness  in  the  debates  between 
the  sisters  and  particularly  in  a  maxim  worthy  of  La  Rochefou- 
cauld, "On  peut  aller  facilement  de  1'amitie  a  1'amour,  mais 
il  n'est  pas  si  facile  d'aller  de  1'amour  a  I'amiti^."1 

The  privilege  for  the  next  tragi-comedy,  Nitocris  Reyne  de  Baby- 
lone,  is  dated  November  10,  1649;  the  acheve  (T imprinter,  January 
28,  1650.  There  is  neither  dedication  nor  foreword.  Nothing 
is  known  of  the  play's  success,  except  that  it  was  republished 
the  same  year  at  Leyden  by  the  Elzevirs.  Herodotus2  mentions 
a  Nitocris,  Queen  of  Babylon,  who  had  certain  relations  with 
the  Medes,  and  Du  Ryer,  who  had  published  his  translation  of 
the  historian  about  five  years  earlier,  undoubtedly  derived  from 
this  source  the  name  and,  perhaps,  some  aspects  of  his  heroine's 
character,  as  well  as  the  suggestion  of  dealings  between  her  and 
the  Medes.  But  this  is  all.  The  plot  and  other  characters  than 
the  queen  do  not  come  from  Herodotus.  His  recently  written 
Themistocle  may  have  suggested  the  Oriental  subject.  A  few 
scenes  and  the  denouement,  brought  about  by  the  ruler's  mag- 
nanimity, point  to  the  influence  of  Cinna.  The  main  source  of 
the  play,  however,  is  unknown. 

Nitocris,  absolute  ruler  of  Babylon,  has  decided  to  choose  a 
husband.  She  hesitates  between  Cleodate,  a  famous  and  virtuous 
warrior  of  humble  birth,  with  whom  she  is  in  love,  and  Araxe,  a 
man  of  royal  blood,  but  ambitious  and  formerly  disloyal,  for  whom 
she  cares  nothing.  Her  problem  is  that  which  appeared  in  Alcionee, 
Berenice,  Themistocle,  the  choice  between  high  birth  and  native 
excellence.  A  third  course,  to  remain  unmarried,  is  also  open 
to  her.  Cleodate,  ignorant  of  the  queen's  sentiments  toward 
him,  cherishes  a  secret  passion  for  Axiane,  Princess  of  Media,  who 
dwells  at  the  court  of  Nitocris.  Araxe,  on  the  other  hand,  is 

JV,  2.  '1,185-187. 


LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES  141 

using  every  means  in  his  power  to  persuade  Nitocris  to  marry 
him,  extending  his  machinations  until  they  involve  treachery  to 
his  friend,  Cleodate,  and  to  Alcine,  Princess  of  Assyria,  who  is 
in  love  with  him. 

These  interests  are  shown  us  in  the  first  two  acts.  Araxe 
is  meditating  how  he  can  overthrow  Cleodate,  when  the  latter 
comes  to  tell  him  that  he  has  asked  Nitocris  to  let  him  leave 
the  court,  for  he  knows  that  his  low  birth  and  the  fact  that 
the  queen  wishes  Axiane  to  remain  unmarried  make  his  love  for 
this  princess  hopeless.  He  wishes  that  Araxe  would  urge  Nito- 
cris to  allow  him  to  leave,  and  Araxe  with  feigned  reluctance 
agrees.  But  Nitocris,  who  does  not  know  of  Cleodate's  love, 
now  refuses  to  allow  him  to  depart.  The  act  ends  with  Axiane's 
confession  to  Alcine  of  her  nascent  love  for  Cleodate. 

Nitocris,  after  struggling  to  conquer  her  passion  for  Cleodate, 
takes  counsel  of  the  two  princesses,  each  of  whom  advises  her  to 
wed  the  other's  lover,  Axiane  reminding  her  of  Cleodate's  low 
birth  and  the  importance  of  giving  the  people  a  king  who  has 
a  long  line  of  ancestors,  Alcine  replying  that  Araxe  has  once 
rebelled,  while  Cleodate  has  always  been  faithful  to  the  queen. 
Before  Nitocris  makes  a  final  decision,  Cleodate  is  told  that 
she  consents  to  his  leaving  the  court.  He  then  tells  Axiane  that 
the  true  reason  for  his  departure  is  his  love  for  her.  She  assures 
him  that  she  also  loves  him  and  would  make  him  a  king  if  she 
had  a  throne  to  share  with  him,  but,  as  she  has  none,  she  wishes, 
instead,  to  marry  him  to  Nitocris. 

The  queen  now  calls  upon  Araxe  and  Cleodate  to  advise  her 
whom  she  should  marry.  The  former  avoids  a  definite  answer 
by  assuring  her  that  he  will  accept  as  king  the  subject  she  honors 
with  her  hand,  while  Cleodate  urges  her  to  marry  no  one,  but  to 
continue  to  use  the  courtship  of  neighboring  monarchs  as  a  means 
of  keeping  them  at  peace  with  her.  Nitocris  thanks  them  for 
their  advice  and  leaves  them  after  bidding  Cleodate  remain 
at  court.  This  third  act  ends  with  an  important  scene  in  which 
Araxe  tries  to  bribe  his  rival  by  promising  him  Axiane  in  marriage, 
together  with  the  throne  of  Media,  if  he  will  first  persuade  Nitocris 
to  marry  him,  a  proposition  which  Cleodate  indignantly  rejects. 

Araxe,  now  knowing  that  he  has  nothing  to  gain  by  an  alliance 
with  his  rival,  sees  that  his  only  hope  of  success  lies  in  destroying 
him.  Accordingly,  when  the  queen  tells  him  she  has  decided  to 


142  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

marry  Cleodate,  he  craftily  replies  that  she  has  made  a  noble 
choice,  "si  pourtant  son  esprit  peut  souffrir  vostre  chois. "  He 
goes  on  to  accuse  Cleodate  of  loving  Axiane  and  of  plotting  to 
give  the  throne  of  Babylon  to  the  king  of  Media,  in  order  that  he 
may  inherit  it  later  as  husband  of  Axiane.  The  queen  sees  through 
the  falsity  of  the  second  accusation,  but  she  is  deeply  moved 
by  the  first.  She  has  Araxe  arrested  for  slandering  Cleodate, 
despite  Alcine's  protestations,  and  summons  Cleodate  before  her. 
When  he  arrives,  she  urges  him  to  tell  her  the  truth : 

' '  Nitocris :    Ay mes-tu  ?    re"ponds-moy . 
Cleodate:  Si  i' ay  me! 

Nitocris :  Responds-moy, 

Lors  qu'on  hesite  ainsi,  Ton  veut  manquer  de  foy. 
Cleodate:  Plutost  le  iuste  Ciel  me  punisse  en  profane. 
Nitocris:    Mais  enfin  aimes-tu  la  Princesse  Axiane? 
Cleodate:  Ouy,  Madame,  ie  1'ayme." 

Nitocris  rebukes,  but  pardons  him,  bids  him  continue  to  love  the 
princess  and,  when  he  has  left  her,  soliloquizes  concerning  the 
powerlessness  of  monarchs.  The  act  ends  with  the  announcement 
that  the  king  of  the  Medes  is  dead. 

The  accusations  against  Cleodate  now  include  the  charge  that 
he  has  been  responsible  for  this  king's  death.  Nitocris  wavers 
in  her  good  opinion  of  him,  but  it  is  only  momentarily,  for  she 
summons  Araxe  and  gets  from  him  a  confession  of  the  falsity  of 
his  accusation.  He  excuses  himself  by  saying  that  his  crime  is 
due  to  jealousy  and  makes  a  last  vain  effort  to  win  the  queen's 
hand.  Nitocris  now  resolves,  like  Auguste,  to  show  her  greatness 
by  conquering  her  feelings.  She  will  continue  to  rule  alone,  will 
pardon  Araxe,  and  rise  above  her  love  of  Cleodate  and  her  jealousy 
of  Axiane.  She  accordingly  marries  Cleodate  to  this  princess, 
who  succeeds  with  him  to  the  throne  of  Media,  gives  Alcine  to 
Araxe,  and  consoles  herself  for  her  sacrifice  with  the  reflection 
that  she  will  remain  a  proof  to  posterity  of  how  the  will  can 
conquer  love. 

The  play  is  thoroughly  classic  in  structure.  The  only  formal 
indication  of  the  location  is  the  statement  that  the  scene  is  laid 
at  Babylon,  but  it  is  evident  that  everything  occurs  in  one  palace, 
probably  in  only  one  room.  The  time  is  not  necessarily  more  than 
a  few  hours.  The  action  is  a  model  of  unity.  On  Nitocris,  the 
central  figure,  depend  her  own  sacrifice  and  the  marriages  of 


LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES 


143 


Cleodate  and  Araxe.  Even  Cleodate's  declaration  of  love  to 
Axiane  is  the  result  of  her  first  permission  to  him  to  leave  her  court. 
The  death  of  the  king  of  Media  merely  serves  to  increase  the 
happiness  at  the  end  of  the  play  and  has  no  effect  upon  the  de- 
nouement, which  is  brought  about  entirely  by  the  magnanimity 
of  the  queen.  Her  action  is  the  result  of  her  character  and  the 
knowledge  of  Cleodate's  love  for  Axiane.  Thus  the  persons 
and  circumstances  presented  at  the  beginning  of  the  play  produce 
logically  the  denouement. 

The  manners  described  are,  of  course,  those  of  a  seventeenth- 
century  French  court,  not  those  of  Babylon  or  any  other  part  of  the 
Orient.  The  similarity  to  Cinna  is  obvious,  for  the  central  theme 
is  the  clemency  of  an  absolute  monarch.  Nitocris's  triumph  is  as 
difficult  for  a  woman  as  is  Auguste's  for  a  man.  She  forgives 
her  subject  for  preferring  another  princess,  as  Auguste  forgives 
his  subjects  for  plotting  his  death.  In  both  cases  the  chief  cause 
of  the  action  is  desire  to  do  the  noble  deed.  In  both  cases,  too, 
the  minds  of  the  protagonists  are  not  made  up  at  the  beginning 
and  the  changes  through  which  they  pass  make  the  plays  dramatic. 
Like  Auguste,  Nitocris  takes  counsel  of  those  personally  affected 
by  her  decision. 

Cleodate  and  Araxe  are  sharply  contrasted  in  character  and 
interests.  The  former  is  the  less  interesting.  As  the  lover  of 
one  princess  and  the  faithful  subject  of  another,  his  r61e  might 
have  portrayed  a  struggle,  but,  as  his  fate  rests  entirely  with 
Nitocris,  he  seems  little  more  than  a  puppet  whom  she  chooses  to 
make  happy  at  the  end  of  the  play.  Araxe,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  the  incarnation  of  ambition.  Having  failed  to  win  the  throne 
by  rebellion,  he  seeks  it  through  marriage  with  the  queen,  for 
which  purpose  he  deliberately  endeavors  to  destroy  his  friend 
Cleodate,  whom  he  fears  as  a  formidable  rival,  and  to  make  a 
tool  of  Alcine,  whom  he  still  professes  to  love : 

"C'est  foiblesse  d'esprit,  c'est  estre  mal-habile, 
D'espargner  vn  amy  quand  sa  perte  est  vtile. " 

His  character  is  gradually  unfolded  after  this  statement  of  prin- 
ciple. He  first  seeks  to  injure  his  friend  by  advising  the  queen 
in  accordance  with  Cleodate's  own  desires,  then  endeavors  to 
bribe  him,  then  betrays  him.  At  the  same  time  he  is  trying  to  use 


144  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Alcine's  love  for  his  own  advancement  and  her  misfortune.  When 
all  his  means  prove  abortive  and  he  has  himself  been  arrested, 
he  strives  to  make  out  of  the  confession  of  his  crimes  a  strong 
appeal  to  the  queen's  favor.  This  confession  is  difficult  to  under- 
stand unless  we  perceive  that  he  is  putting  all  his  chances  into  a 
single  throw,  that  in  confession  lies  his  only  means  of  winning 
the  throne.  When  he  accepts  Alcine  as  his  wife,  it  is  only  because 
there  is  no  longer  any  hope  of  winning  Nitocris.  He  shows  no 
evidence  of  repentance. 

The  two  princesses  are  types  from  the  aristocratic  society 
of  Du  Ryer's  contemporaries.  They  analyze  passion,  discuss 
their  own  sentiments,  argue  ably  before  the  queen  while  concealing 
their  real  motives.  Axiane,  unlike  Nitocris,  feels  no  hesitation 
at  loving  a  man  beneath  her  in  rank.  Her  r61e  is  carelessly 
treated,  inasmuch  as  at  the  end  of  the  second  act  she  urges  the 
queen  to  marry  Araxe,  while  in  the  second  scene  of  the  third  act 
she  advises  Cleodate  to  wed  the  queen.  This  hero's  confession 
of  love  for  her  can  scarcely  be  the  cause  of  this  change.  Alcine 
is  more  consistent.  She  understands  Araxe  perfectly,  but  she 
defends  him,  continues  to  love  him,  and  finally  rescues  him  from 
the  queen.  The  two  other  characters,  Atis  and  Achate,  serve 
in  the  colorless  r61es  of  confidant  and  messenger.  The  high 
birth  of  most  of  the  persons  may  be  noted.  Indeed  the  atmosphere 
of  the  play  represents  on  all  sides  the  conventional  notion  of 
an  absolute  monarch's  court,  its  virtues  as  well  as  its  vices,  for 
magnanimity  and  loyalty  flourish  in  it  alongside  of  flattery, 
deception,  and  place-seeking. 

Dynamis,  the  next  tragi-comedy, '  resembles  Nitocris  in  its 
chief  theme,  the  marriage  of  an  Oriental  queen,  in  which  are 
concerned  a  falsely  accused  hero  and  a  treacherous  aspirant  to 
the  throne,  but  the  careless  motivation  of  the  characters,  the 
structural  looseness,  and  the  use  of  melodramatic  incidents  recall 
the  author's  early  plays.  Suggestions  for  the  plot  and  persons 
are  found  in  Dion  Cassius,  LIV,  24,  where  it  is  told  briefly  how 
the  adventurer,  Scribonius,  fraudulently  made  himself  King  of 
Bosporus  Cimmerius,  married  Dynamis,  widow  of  the  late  king, 
was  attacked  by  Polemon,  King  of  Cappadocian  Pontus  and  ally 
of  the  Romans,  was  put  to  death  by  his  subjects,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded on  the  throne  by  this  rival,  who  became  the  third  husband 

1  Privilege,  August  26,  1650;  achevt  d'imprimer,  December  28,  1652. 


LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES  145 

of  the  queen.  Du  Ryer  has  avoided  inconvenient  names  by 
substituting  for  these  two  countries  other  provinces  of  Asia 
Minor,  Carie  and  Lycie,  a  change  which  makes  him  lay  his  scene 
at  Halycarnasse,  capital  of  the  former  country.  Scribonius  is 
changed  to  Areas,  prince  de  Carie,  an  unsuccessful  aspirant  to 
Dynamis's  throne  and  hand.  Polemon  becomes  Poliante,  roy  de 
Lycie,  and  keeps  his  r61e  of  defender  and  last  husband  to  the  queen. 
Two  important  characters  and  a  number  of  incidents  are  added. 

Before  the  play  begins,  the  king  has  died  in  battle  under 
suspicious  circumstances.  Areas,  who  is  commonly  thought  to 
have  murdered  him,  seeks  to  marry  the  queen  and  finds  help 
from  Trasile,  her  bastard  brother,  who  hopes  that  his  sister  will 
become  unpopular  by  this  marriage  and  be  thus  forced  to  abdicate 
in  his  favor.  Trasile  is  encouraged  to  scheme  for  the  throne  by 
Proxene,  a  princess  who  wishes  to  become  queen  by  marrying 
him,  but  his  plans  are  constantly  thwarted  either  by  the  blunders 
of  his  associates  or  his  own  lack  of  courage.  When  Dynamis 
vigorously  reproaches  him  for  helping  Areas,  he  defends  himself 
weakly,  then  begs  her  forgiveness.  He  urges  her  not  to  marry 
Poliante,  whom  she  loves,  and  is  told  that  her  intention  is  to 
remain  unmarried. 

After  a  useless  scene  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  act,  in 
which  Dynamis  tells  Poliante  that  he  must  leave  her  court  in 
order  that  he  may  not  be  injured  by  his  secret  enemies  there, 
word  is  brought  that  Areas  is  coming  with  an  army  to  force  the 
queen  to  marry  him.  At  the  same  time  Poliante  is  informed  that 
his  own  subjects  are  revolting.  Dynamis  insists  upon  Poliante's 
defending  his  own  land,  but  he  refuses,  for  he  must  stay  to  pro- 
tect her.  She  threatens  to  stop  loving  him;  he  replies  that  his 
love  will  be  the  nobler  if  he  is  hated.  Their  debate  is  brought 
to  a  close  by  the  queen's  deciding  upon  the  romantic  plan  of 
abdicating  in  her  brother's  favor  in  order  that  her  love  may  no 
longer  interfere  with  Poliante's  duty  to  his  land.  Poliante 
immediately  offers  his  throne  and  heart  to  Dynamis  and,  in 
addition,  his  sister  in  marriage  to  Trasile.  The  latter,  who  has 
accepted  his  sister's  throne  with  feigned  reluctance,  now  consents 
to  this  matrimonial  arrangement  as  well,  to  the  disgust  of  Proxene, 
who  will  have  her  revenge  for  being  thus  abandoned. 

Fortunately  Dynamis  has  lost  no  time  in  planning  her  senti- 
mental abdication,  for  the  news  comes  at  the  beginning  of  the 


146  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

third  act  that  Poliante's  rebellious  subjects  are  conquered,  so 
that  her  generosity  is  now  unnecessary.  She  begins  to  hesitate 
about  actually  surrendering  her  throne  and  soon  informs  her 
brother  that  she  will  continue  to  rule,  at  least  till  after  the  defeat 
of  Areas.  Trasile  pretends  to  desire  this,  but  secretly  believes 
that  Dynamis's  lack  of  good  faith  justifies  his  efforts  to  dethrone 
her.  Trasile  is  reckoning,  however,  without  Proxene,  who  threatens 
to  betray  his  plans: 

"Allez,  allez,  ingrat,  iouyssez  de  vos  crimes, 
N'ayez  iamais  de  biens  ny  d'honneurs  legitimes 
Mais  scachez  qu'vn  meschant  ne  doit  pas  outrager 
Quiconque  scait  son  crime  et  qui  pent  se  vanger. " 

Proxene  goes  to  find  the  queen,  leaving  Trasile  to  reflect  that 
he  must  strike  at  once,  but,  before  he  can  take  any  steps,  Dynamis 
enters  with  the  surprising  intelligence  that  a  certain  Euristene, 
an  old  retainer,  has  accused  Poliante  of  the  late  king's  murder. 
After  the  battle  he  was  lying  in  a  wood,  unconscious  from  his 
wounds,  when  he  was  roused  by  a  shout  and  saw  Poliante  draw 
a  dagger  from  the  body  of  the  dying  king.  He  has  been  pre- 
vented from  testifying  sooner  by  his  absence  among  the  enemy, 
whence  he  has  just  returned.  He  hopes  that  his  evidence  may 
free  Areas  from  the  charges  made  against  him.  Dynamis  resolves 
to  consult  the  "Grands  de  1'Estat. "  She  now  has  two  criminal 
cases  to  investigate,  for  she  has  been  informed  by  Proxene  of 
Trasile's  plot  against  her.  The  "Deputez"  of  the  nobility  urge 
her  to  discredit  the  charges  against  Poliante  and  to  take  him  for 
husband.  Trasile  assumes  indignation  at  the  nobles  for  pre- 
suming to  advise  the  queen,  but  he  approves  of  this  marriage 
himself,  apparently  hoping  to  involve  his  sister  in  the  charge 
against  Poliante.  Perceiving  that  he  is  again  advising  her 
treacherously,  and  acting  on  the  revelations  made  by  Proxene, 
she  has  her  brother  arrested  and  then  proceeds  to  interview 
Poliante.  The  latter  explains  his  innocence.  He  had  found  the 
king  lying  in  a  pool  of  blood  with  a  dagger  in  his  wound  and  was 
pulling  the  dagger  out  when  Euristene  saw  him.  As  Dynamis 
refuses  to  accept  this  statement  without  further  evidence,  her 
lover  declares  that  he  will  bring  Areas  to  corroborate  it. 

The  events  of  the  fifth  act  pass  rapidly.  We  hear  that  Trasile 
has  escaped  from  the  city  to  the  camp  of  Areas  and  that  Poliante 
has  gone  off  with  his  army,  perhaps  in  flight,  perhaps  to  join  the 


LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES  147 

enemy.  While  Dynamis  and  her  attendants  are  discussing  these 
events,  Poliante  returns  to  announce  that  he  has  defeated  Arcas's 
army  and  that  its  leader  and  Trasile,  having  wounded  each  other, 
are  being  brought  dying  to  the  city.  Dynamis  explains  that  she 
brought  about  the  quarrel  between  her  two  enemies  by  making 
known  to  Areas  Trasile's  plans  for  betraying  him.  Areas  con- 
fesses that  he  killed  the  king  and  left  the  dagger  in  the  wound,  then 
plotted  with  Trasile  to  get  control  of  the  kingdom.  He  expresses 
sorrow  for  his  crime  and  wishes  happiness  to  Dynamis  and  Po- 
liante. Trasile,  on  the  other  hand,  curses  his  sister  and  remains 
unrepentant  till  just  before  his  death.  They  die  behind  the 
scenes,  whither  the  queen  has  had  them  removed.  "  le  profite  en 
sa  mort, "  is  her  comment  upon  her  brother's  death.  The  play 
ends  with  her  final  acceptance  of  Poliante. 

The  structure  is  classic  in  time  and  place,  requiring  one  room 
of  the  royal  palace  and  one  somewhat  crowded  day,  but  the  unity 
of  action  is  freely  violated.  There  are  two  threads,  one  concerned 
with  the  queen's  marriage,  the  other  with  her  retaining  the  throne. 
Neither  depends  on  the  other,  for  the  stoiy  of  Trasile's  treachery 
could  exist  without  Poliante  and  the  account  of  Poliante's  vindi- 
cation and  marriage  does  not  require  the  presence  of  Trasile. 
Furthermore,  events  occur  without  proper  preparation  or  impor- 
tant result,  as,  for  instance,  Poliante's  offer  of  his  sister  to  Trasile 
and  Dynamis's  proposal  to  abdicate  in  her  brother's  favor,  the 
queen's  vague  fear  of  Poliante's  secret  enemies,  and  the  war  in  the 
latter's  country.  The  introduction  of  the  deputies  is  superfluous. 
The  denouement  is  due  to  chance  as  much  as  to  the  deeds  of  the 
leading  persons.  In  short,  the  play  depends  for  its  movement 
upon  external  acts  rather  than  upon  the  characters.  Where  the 
persons  accomplish  results,  their  motives  are  often  insufficient. 
In  place  of  a  careful  study  of  the  characters,  Du  Ryer  substitutes 
accounts  of  a  mysterious  murder,  romantic  abdications,  and  the 
strange  death  of  the  villains.  The  play  shows  a  curious  return 
to  his  early  methods,  in  spite  of  its  classical  proprieties. 

The  structural  weakness  is  not  greatly  relieved  by  the  treat- 
ment of  character.  Dynamis  is  evidently  intended  to  form  with 
Poliante  the  couple  with  whom  we  should  sympathize  and  whose 
final  happiness  helps  to  make  this  a  tragi-comedy,  yet  she  is  made, 
not  only  violent,  strong,  courageous,  but  false  to  her  promise  to 
Trasile,  brutally  indifferent  to  his  death,  criminally  suspicious  of 


148  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Poliante.  She  acts  towards  her  brother  and  the  deputies  with 
intelligence,  but  she  wishes  to  send  away  Poliante,  whom  she 
loves,  with  scarcely  any  other  reason  than  to  supply  Du  Ryer 
with  a  sentimental  scene  of  parting.  She  is  so  blind  to  her  duty 
as  queen  that  she  agrees  to  abdicate  for  the  sake  of  her  lover, 
yet  she  believes  this  lover  a  murderer  as  soon  as  he  is  accused  of 
the  crime.  Poliante  possesses  the  virtues  of  warrior,  courtier,  and 
lover,  and  is  ready  to  sacrifice  both  his  country  and  himself  to 
Dynamis.  Proxene  promised  to  be  an  interesting  union  of 
Emilie  and  Hermione,  but  her  r61e  is  unfortunately  cramped  into 
a  few  scenes.  She  should  have  had  another  interview  with  her 
lover  before  deciding  to  betray  him,  and  the  scene  in  which  she 
accused  him  to  the  queen  should  be  represented.  Trasile  has 
the  most  dramatic  character  of  the  play,  marked  by  a  strong 
desire  to  rule,  which  comes  from  his  royal  descent,  and  a  fear  of 
those  around  him,  which  seems  the  product  of  his  illegitimacy  and 
the  social  reprobation  it  has  cost  him.  He  plots  to  win  his  sister's 
throne  and  deserts  his  allies  when  a  surer  prize  is  offered  him, 
trembles  before  the  sister  he  threatens  in  secret,  and  fears  to 
insist  upon  her  keeping  her  promise  to  him.  It  is  unfortunate 
that  he  and  Proxene  are  not  the  chief  figures  in  the  play  instead 
of  the  inconsistent  Dynamis  and  her  conventional  lover.  The 
remaining  characters  are  insignificant.  It  need  be  noted  only 
that  the  introduction  of  the  deputies  and  the  dying  villains 
suggests  a  return  to  the  spectacular  characteristics  of  the  early 
tragi-comedies. 

As  Pellisson  stated  in  I6531  that  Du  Ryer  was  then  finishing 
his  nineteenth  play,  called  Anaxandre,  this  is  probably  the  date 
of  that  tragi-comedy's  first  representation.  It  was  published  at 
Paris  in  i655,2  at  Amsterdam  in  1658.  The  source  has  not  been 
established  with  absolute  certainty,  but  resemblances  with  Cle- 
omedon  make  it  probable  that  Du  Ryer  is  here  reworking  the 
theme  he  took  from  the  Astree. 3  The  king  and  his  two  daughters, 
the  captured  prince,  the  prince  to  whom  the  king's  daughter 
is  promised  as  a  reward  for  his  achievements  and  who  learns 
that  she  is  to  be  taken  from  him  and  given  to  the  prince  he  has 

1  Histoire  de  I' Academic  Frangoise,  p.  556.     This  work  has  its  privilege  dated 
November  14,  1652,  but  it  was  not  printed  till  1653.     As  it  names  among  Du  Ryer's 
published  works  his  Livy,  whose  achevt  d'imprimer  is  dated  February  20,  1653,  it  is 
probable  that  his  article  on  Du  Ryer  was  written  after  this  date. 

2  Privilege,  January  22;  achevt  d'imprimer,  March  23.  *  Part  v,  book  10. 


LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES  149 

taken  prisoner,  and  the  final  double  marriage  are  found  in  the 
Astree  and  in  both  of  Du  Ryer's  plays.  In  the  Astree  and  Ana- 
xandre  the  older  daughter  is  named  Cephise  and  there  is  a  rivalry 
between  the  two  sisters,  which  ends  in  the  victory  of  the  younger. 
The  following  quatrains  resemble  each  other  closely: 

"I'ay  fait  vn  Roy  captif,  i'en  attends  de  la  gloire, 
II  iouyt  cependant  du  prix  de  ma  victoire; 
Et  par  I'iniuste  effet  d'vne  ingrate  rigueur, 
La  gloire  est  au  vaincu,  la  honte  est  au  vainqueur;"1 

"I'ay  vaincu,  i'ay  defait,  et  i'ay  pris  Anaxandre. 
Mais  il  m'oste  le  prix  que  i'en  deuois  attendre, 
Et  par  vostre  dedain  qui  me  perce  le  coeur, 
Le  vaincu  satisfait  se  vange  du  vainqueur."2 

On  the  other  hand,  in  Anaxandre  it  is  the  captive  prince  who 
plays  the  chief  r61e  and  is  loved  by  the  two  sisters,  while  in  the 
Astree  and  Cleomedon  the  subject  prince  is  the  more  important 
person.  In  the  new  play  the  daughter  changes  her  mind,  not  the 
king.  More  important  is  the  omission  from  Anaxandre  of  im- 
probable and  complex  elements  found  in  Cleomedon.  Du  Ryer 
leaves  out  the  account  of  the  lost  prince,  sold  as  a  slave,  who 
rescued  the  king  from  a  lion  and  was  finally  recognized  by  a 
birth-mark,  the  scenes  dealing  with  the  war,  the  hero's  madness, 
and  the  reconciliation  between  the  king  and  his  wife.  Stripped  of 
picturesque  and  marvellous  elements,  the  play  is  devoted  to  the 
study  of  character,  but  the  method  has  become  so  vague  and 
abstract  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  this  tragi-comedy  was  as 
successful  as  its  irregular  predecessor. 

Prince  Anaxandre,  taken  prisoner  by  Alphenor,  another  prince, 
is  now  the  captive  of  the  latter's  sovereign,  known  in  the  play  as 
"Le  Roy."  This  king  intends  to  marry  his  older  daughter, 
Cephise,  to  Alphenor,  who  loves  her  and  whom  she  seems  to  love; 
his  younger  daughter,  Alcione,  he  has  directed  to  pretend  love 
for  Anaxandre  in  order  that  peace  may  be  established  between  the 
countries.  When  the  play  begins,  both  maidens  have  fallen  in 
love  with  Anaxandre,  who  loves  the  younger  sister.  In  the  first 
act  Cephise  reject's  Alphenor's  suit,  learns  from  her  father  that 
Anaxandre  loves  her  sister,  and  plots  to  win  the  captive's  heart 
for  herself. 

1  Cleomedon,  III,  3.  *  Anaxandre,  I,  I. 


150  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Anaxandre  is  introduced  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  act, 
waiting  "en  cette  promenade"  for  his  daily  visitor,  the  Princess 
Alcione.  When  she  comes,  he  asks  for  freedom  in  order  that  his 
love  may  be  the  only  chain  to  keep  him  near  her,  but  she  tells 
him  that  she  can  not  allow  her  love  to  lessen  her  "gloire"  by 
his  release.  She  is  succeeded  by  Alphenor,  who  asks  whether 
Anaxandre  loves  Cephise  and  receives  the  ambiguous  reply  that 
he  loves  the  woman  who  loves  him.  Believing  this  to  be  Cephise, 
Alphenor  seeks  no  further  explanation.  Asterie,  a  confidante, 
informs  Anaxandre  that  Cephise  loves  him  and  will  liberate  him 
if  he  promises  to  love  her.  After  some  hesitation  he  bids  her  tell 
Cephise  that  "pour  ce  grand  bien  .  .  .  C'est  trop  peu  de  1'aymer 
qu'il  faut  que  ie  1'adore. "  He  tells  his  confidant  that  he  will 
go  no  further  than  this  in  promising  what  he  can  not  fulfill,  but 
he  is  wavering  when  Prodote  brings  word  that  the  king  has  put 
him  on  parole,  an  action  that  makes  it  impossible  for  Cephise  to 
tempt  him  further. 

This  courtier,  Prodote,  with  Asterie's  help,  makes  Cephise 
believe  that  Anaxandre  loves  her,  then  seeks  to  convince  the 
king  of  the  same  thing,  pretending  that  the  prince's  love  for 
Alcione  is  feigned.  But  the  sovereign,  unmoved  by  this  informa- 
tion, promises  Cephise  to  Alphenor  and  bids  her  prepare  to  marry 
him.  She  can  obtain  from  her  father  only  the  postponement  of 
this  marriage  till  the  end  of  the  war.  In  an  interesting  interview 
between  the  sisters  each  of  them  tries  to  get  from  the  other  a 
confession  of  love  for  Anaxandre.  When  the  latter  joins  them,  a 
comic  situation  is  produced  by  their  love-making  and  his  efforts 
to  satisfy  both  by  gallant  subtleties.  Finally  Alcione  is  called 
away  and  Cephise  insists  upon  knowing  which  of  them  he  loves. 
Anaxandre,  after  explaining  that  love  is  a  matter  of  destiny, 
beyond  the  lover's  control,  admits  that  he  loves  Alcione.  Cephise 
expresses  her  indignation  at  his  thinking  that  she  is  jealous  of  her 
sister  and,  when  alone  with  her  confidante,  hopes  that  her  own 
love  for  Anaxandre  may  be  turned  into  hatred.  At  this  moment  a 
new  turn  is  given  to  the  plot  by  the  news  that  Anaxandre's 
father  has  proposed  to  end  the  war  by  marrying  his  son  to  Cephise 
and  that  Alphenor  is  planning  to  rebel  if  the  proposition  is 
accepted. 

Alcione  advises  her  lover  to  do  his  father's  bidding,  accept  her 
sister,  and  bring  peace  to  the  two  countries,  but  he  refuses  to  obey 


LAST  TRAGI-COMEDIES  151 

her  or  to  believe  Prodote's  insinuations  that  she  does  not  love  him. 
Presently  Cephise  comes  to  his  aid  by  deciding  to  accept  Alphenor. 
After  telling  the  latter  that  she  is  too  ambitious  to  marry  him, 
she  is  suddenly  illumined  by  "vn  rayon  d'vne  clairte  Celeste," 
which  convinces  her  that  marrying  Alphenor  is  the  best  way 
to  prove  to  Anaxandre  that  she  has  ceased  to  love  him.  She  ac- 
cordingly explains  that  Anaxandre 's  refusal  to  marry  her  was 
caused  by  his  love  for  her  sister  and  thus  prevents  the  king  from 
breaking  off  negotiations  with  the  prince's  father.  Prodote 
confesses  his  misrepresentations.  Anaxandre  begs  for  the  hand 
of  Alcione,  declaring  that  his  father  has  sent  him  permission  to 
marry  either  princess.  The  king  accordingly  marries  him  to 
Alcione  and  Alphenor  to  Cephise,  thus  establishing  peace  between 
the  countries  and  removing  the  danger  of  civil  war. 

The  scene  is  laid  in  the  royal  palace  of  a  nameless  country. 
A  "promenade"  is  represented,  probably  in  the  court-yard  of  the 
building,  and  at  least  one  room,  where  the  king  takes  coun- 
sel. The  time  is  as  vague  as  the  place,  but  it  does  not  seem  to 
cover  more  than  a  single  day.  The  only  violation  of  the  unity 
of  action  lies  in  the  new  motif  introduced  at  the  end  of  the  fourth 
act,  when  Anaxandre 's  father  directs  him  to  marry  Cephise.  This 
incident  serves  to  bring  out  more  sharply  the  importance  of 
Cephise's  r61e,  for,  without  it,  she  would  merely  be  obeying  her 
father  in  giving  up  Anaxandre.  It  is  unfortunate  that  the  com- 
mand of  the  foreign  king  did  not  come  earlier  in  the  play  and 
that  it  is  not  changed  by  some  other  means  than  the  arrival  of 
ambassadors. 

The  principal  figure  is  Cephise,  who  represents  the  conflict 
of  love  and  pride.  Unlike  most  of  the  strong-willed  classic 
heroines,  she  is  not  influenced  by  any  feeling  of  duty  and  does  not 
scruple  to  deceive  sister,  father,  and  lover,  to  release  a  state 
prisoner,  and  to  plunge  her  country  into  war,  if  by  so  doing  she 
can  win  the  man  she  loves.  She  is  shown  in  a  large  number  of 
situations,  plotting  to  win  Anaxandre,  rejoicing  over  her  supposed 
success,  angered  by  her  defeat,  taking  vengeance  by  conquering 
her  passion  and  accepting  Alphenor.  It  is  her  pride  which  finally 
prevails  and  becomes  a  chief  factor  in  bringing  about  the  de- 
nouement. Her  sister  is  less  carefully  characterized.  Love  for 
Anaxandre  and  obedience  to  her  father  furnish  her  motives.  She 
is  a  precieuse  in  the  concealments  and  pretences  she  practises 


152  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

with  regard  to  her  love.     In  the  following  lines  she  suggests 
Madelon's  "aveu  qui  fait  tant  de  peine:"1 

"  Ce  mot  qui  ne  sort  point  qu'apres  vn  grand  effort 
D'vn  coeur  et  d'vn  esprit  ou  1'amour  est  bien  fort, 
Ce  mot  si  souhaite"  des  ames  amoureuses, 
Ce  mot  qui  coute  tant  aux  filles  vertueuses.  "2 

Anaxandre  is  the  personification  of  gallantry.  He  had  formerly 
been  busy  conquering  provinces  in  order  to  return  them  to  their 
princes.  He  loves  Alcione  and  flirts  with  Cephise.  When 
forced  to  tell  the  latter  that  he  does  not  love  her,  he  is  careful  to 
make  first  a  sophistical  explanation  of  the  origin  of  love.  He 
appears  in  earnest  only  in  the  last  act.  Alphenor  is  the  only 
person  in  the  play  who  does  not  conceal  or  feign  emotions.  He 
is  a  slighter  Alcionee,  who  has  been  promised  a  princess,  sees  her 
about  to  be  taken  from  him,  and  meditates  rebellion.  The  other 
characters  delight  in  deceiving  him.  Prodote,  the  villain  of  the 
play,  tries  to  advance  his  interests  by  deceiving  every  one  and 
succeeds  in  bringing  about  only  his  own  confusion.  The  king  is 
a  wise,  though  tricky  monarch,  one  of  whose  maxims  suggests 
that  he  was  modeled  after  Du  Ryer's  Assuerus: 

"  Differer  le  salaire  est  comme  le  rauir 
Et  c'est  a  mon  aduis  apprendre  a  mal  seruir;"3 

"Ne  pas  recompenser,  c'est  apprendre  a  trahir. "4 

An  occasional  comic  situation  occurs.  The  tone  of  the  play 
is  less  elevated  than  that  of  the  tragedies,  for  there  is  an  atmos- 
phere of  gallantry  and  selfishness  that  is  unrelieved  by  noble 
emotions.  This  is  the  most  typical  example  that  Du  Ryer  affords 
of  the  classical  tragi-comedy,  a  form  of  dramatic  composition 
doomed  to  failure,  for  it  shows  the  vagueness  and  chill  of  the 
classic  tragedy  without  its  beauty,  the  weakness  and  triviality 
of  the  tragi-comedy  without  its  variety  and  picturesqueness. 
Whether  Du  Ryer  intended  to  continue  writing  this  sort  of  play 
instead  of  returning  to  the  tragedy  remains  unknown.  His 
financial  success  as  a  dramatist  was  not  sufficient  to  obviate  the 
necessity  of  devoting  himself  to  translations,  which,  after  the 
appearance  of  this  play,  occupied  exclusively  his  literary  powers. 

1  Precieuses  ridicules,  4.  «  II,  2.  »  III,  4.  <  Esther,  V,  I. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A   GENERAL  CRITICISM. 

Although  the  philosophy  expressed  in  Du  Ryer's  plays  is 
largely  that  of  any  "honnete  homme"  of  his  time,  and  conse- 
quently demands  little  explanation,  some  of  his  ideas  deserve 
attention  before  the  general  characteristics  of  his  dramatic  work 
are  discussed.  He  believes  that  the  will  is  usually  free  to  control 
man's  passions  and  determine  his  future,  but  he  admits  cases  in 
which  there  is  direction  by  a  stronger  power.  Saul,  having  sinned 
too  greatly  for  forgiveness,  will  be  forced  irresistibly  to  further 
crime  and  disaster: 

"Vn  pouuoir  que  le  mien  ne  sgauroit  e"branler 
M'entraisne  auec  horreur  oti  j'ay  honte  d'aller.  "x 

Esther  is  free  to  save  her  people  or  to  be  destroyed,  but  in  either 
case  they  will  be  saved.  According  to  Anaxandre,  the  origin  of 
love  is  outside  our  power: 

"Lors  que  le  Ciel  nous  oblige  d'aymer, 
II  nous  choisit  1'obiet  qui  doit  nous  enflammer; 
II  le  met  dans  nos  coeurs  mesme  auant  que  de  naistre, 
Et  nostre  ceil  le  connoist  de"s  qu'il  le  void  paroistre: 
Et  quoy  qu'on  trouue  ailleurs  de  charmant  et  de  doux 
Le  choix  d'vn  autre  obiet  ne  depend  plus  de  nous."2 

But,  while  this  love  is  not  created  or  removed  at  will,  the 
lover's  actions  may  be  directed  by  reason,  or  by  ambition,  patri- 
otism, honor.  He  may  seek  arguments  that  can  reconcile  his 
will  and  his  passion,  or,  not  finding  them,  he  may  by  his  will 
permanently  oppose  the  gratification  of  his  passion.  This  is 
what  Axiane  means  when  she  declares,  "si  ie  ne  1'ayme  .  .  .  le 

1  SaOl,  III,  2. 

*  Anaxandre,  IV,  4.      Cf.  Dynamis,  IV,  6,  "I'ayme  par  vn  effect  du  Celeste 
courroux. " 

153 


154  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

cherche  les  raisons  qui  peuuent  m'y  contraindre, "  and  Nitocris  in 
"on  peut  dompter  1'amour  quand  on  veut  le  dompter. MI  Lydie 
refuses  the  low-born  Alcionee,  though  she  continues  to  love  him. 
In  Esther,  Berenice,  Themistocle,  and  Nitocris,  the  prince  or  prin- 
cess is  willing  to  marry  a  person  of  inferior  rank  because  of  the 
nobility  of  his  character.  The  reason  must  consent  before  the 
passion  is  obeyed. 

Du  Ryer's  attitude  towards  government  is  that  of  a  con- 
stitutional monarchist.  He  desires  a  king  only  so  long  as  he 
obeys  the  laws.  Lucrece,  Saul,  and  Sceuole  have  to  do  with  the 
overthrow  of  tyrants.  Alcionee,  though  dedicated  to  Richelieu's 
niece,  has  a  former  rebel  for  hero.  Cleomedon  and  Alphenor 
threaten  insurrection  when  the  king  is  about  to  break  his  promise 
to  them.  When  Trasile  objects  to  his  sister's  receiving  advice 
from  her  subjects,  she  replies  that  she  is  no  tyrant,  for, 

"Si  les  Rois  rebutoient  tous  les  libres  discours, 
On  les  perdroit  sans  doute  en  les  flattant  tousiours."2 

At  the  same  time  the  plays  are  full  of  respect  for  the  wise 
monarch,  "image  des  Dieux,  "3  and  of  appreciation  of  gentle 
birth.  One  who  is  "bien  ne"  is  supposed  incapable  of  base 
deeds,4  despite  frequent  examples  in  the  plays  that  contradict 
the  theory.  The  bourgeois  appear  little.  When  they  are  the 
leading  characters  of  a  play,  in  the  Vendanges,  they  show  a  pride 
in  their  class  that  is  surprising  for  the  period.5  The  same  play 
insists  upon  the  girl's  right  to  choose  her  husband: 

"Cette  action  doit  estre  aussi  libre  que  sainte; 
La  volonte  la  fait  et  non  pas  la  contrainte."6 

Du  Ryer  endows  his  "personnages  sympathiques "  with  the 
orthodox  virtues  of  patriotism,  loyalty,  justice,  domestic  fidelity. 
The  cosmopolite  and  the  skeptic7  are  condemned  along  with  the 
egoist  and  the  traitor.  At  the  same  time,  he  seldom  forgets  that 
he  is  an  artist  rather  than  a  moralist  and  does  not  often  take  a 
pious  and  melodramatic  delight  in  the  punishment  of  his  villains. 

1  Nitocris,  I,  4,  and  V,  5. 

*  Dynamis,  IV,  5. 

J  Sceuole,  V,  I. 

4  Cf .  Clarigene,  IV,  2;  Themistocle,  III,  3;  Argenis,  II,  I. 

«  Cf.  IV,  6,  and  V,  8.  « IV,  6. 

'  Cf .  Themistocle,  V,  3,  and  Sceuole,  II,  4. 


A  GENERAL  CRITICISM  155 

The  sources  of  Clarigene,  Alcionee,  Berenice,  and  Nitocris  are 
unknown;  those  of  the  Vendanges  and  Anaxandre  are  doubtful. 
The  plots  of  the  remaining  fourteen  plays  are  taken  from  three 
Greek  historians,  two  Greek  romancers,  Livy,  the  Bible,  and 
four  modern  writers  of  fiction.  The  preponderance  of  classical 
influence  is  evident.  It  is  still  more  striking  that  Du  Ryer 
gets  nothing  from  Spain  in  an  age  when  few  dramatists  escaped 
Spanish  influence,  and  that  only  one  play,  Amarillis,  the  pastoral 
unacknowledged  by  its  author,  is  based  on  an  Italian  work. 

For  his  early  plays  Du  Ryer  seeks  a  story  that  tells  of  young 
lovers,  the  obstacles  they  meet,  and  the  manner  in  which  their 
marriage  is  brought  about.  He  turns  to  Achilles  Tatius,  Eu- 
mathius,  Plutarch,  and  the  modern  Barclay,  Audigier,  Grotto, 
d'Urfe.  Their  narratives  furnish  him  so  well  the  romantic  in- 
cidents he  seeks  that,  except  in  the  case  of  Aldmedon,  he  makes 
few  changes  apart  from  those  necessitated  by  the  condensation 
of  a  novel  or  the  expansion  of  a  brief  account  into  the  five  acts 
of  a  play.  But,  beginning  with  the  publication  of  Lucrece,  he 
finds  facts  less  important  and  alters  them  with  greater  freedom, 
according  to  Corneille's  principle  that  history  may  be  changed, 
provided  the  audience  is  not  so  familiar  with  the  event  that  its 
alteration  will  be  unpleasant.  Accordingly  he  follows  history 
in  making  Lucrece  and  Saul  take  their  lives,  Esther  save  her 
people,  and  Sceuole  burn  off  his  right  hand,  but  he  changes  the 
fate  of  Themistocle  and  uses  the  greatest  freedom  in  reconstruct- 
ing the  history  of  Dynamis. 

A  more  pronounced  difference  between  the  early  plays  and  the 
late  is  found  in  the  use  of  romantic  and  surprising  incidents. 
That  favorite  support  of  the  melodrama,  the  recognition,  occurs  in 
Cleomedon  by  means  of  a  birth-mark  in  the  form  of  a  laurel 
wreath;  in  Lisandre  et  Caliste  when  the  combatants  in  a  duel 
are  unmasked;  in  Argenis,  Clitophon,  and  Clarigene;  but  in  the 
later  plays  it  occurs  only  once.1  Disguises  in  costume  or  name 
are  found  in  all  of  the  first  nine  plays  and  in  Clarigene.  The 
whole  action  of  this  last  play  depends  on  mistaken  identity.  On 
the  other  hand,  disguise  is  very  subordinate  in  Saul  and  Sceuole, 
where  it  is  required  by  the  historical  source,  and  is  not  used  in 

1  In  the  Witch  of  Endor's  recognition  of  Saul.  It  seems  intentionally  avoided 
in  Sceuole,  when  lunie  is  informed  of  her  lover's  presence  in  the  Etruscan  camp  before 
she  sees  him  there. 


156  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

the  other  plays  published  after  1639.  Substitution  of  children 
occurs  in  the  late  Berenice  as  well  as  in  the  early  Cleomedon,  but 
it  is  only  in  the  early  plays  that  we  find  a  mad  hero  brought  to 
his  senses  by  hearing  his  beloved's  name,  x  sons  fighting  unwit- 
tingly against  their  parents,1  a  prince  who  falls  in  love  with  a 
portrait,2  enlevements,*  women  fighting  in  armor,4  a  man  dis- 
guised as  a  woman  putting  a  band  of  ruffians  to  flight.5 

Accompanying  these  sensational  actions  is  the  representation 
on  the  stage  of  fighting  and  death,  contrary  to  the  subsequent 
laws  of  dramatic  propriety.  Duelling,  assassination,  execution  are 
allowed  in  the  early  plays  even  when  they  could  be  readily  avoided. 
But  in  the  later  plays  Lucrece,  Alcionee,  Saul  and  his  armor- 
bearer  commit  suicide,  while  Haman  and  the  villains  in  Dynamis 
are  removed  from  the  stage  before  they  die,  so  that  the  death  of 
lonathas  is  the  only  violation  of  the  classic  rule  which  allows  on 
the  stage  no  other  form  of  death  than  suicide.  Furthermore, 
with  the  exception  of  Marcile's  pursuit  of  Sceuole,  all  deeds  of 
physical  violence  in  the  later  plays  take  place  behind  the  scenes, 
a  trait  characteristic  even  of  Saul,  in  which  a  part  of  the  battle- 
field is  represented.  It  should  be  noted  that  Du  Ryer  loses 
little  by  the  regularity  of  his  usage  in  regard  to  death,  for  the 
objection  to  the  death  behind  the  scenes  is  not  that  we  are  de- 
prived of  the  spectacle,  but  that  the  chief  actor  is  removed  from 
the  stage  before  the  end  of  the  play  and  an  anti-climax  produced. 
No  such  effect  is  found  in  Du  Ryer:  of  his  six  tragedies,  three 
end  happily  and  three  in  suicide,  where  the  protagonist  dies  on 
the  stage  at  the  end  of  the  play. 

The  dominant  passion  in  all  the  early  plays  is  love.  Poli- 
arque  abandons  his  kingdom  on  account  of  it;  Aretaphile's  actions 
are  dictated  by  her  love  of  Philarque  and  not,  as  in  Plutarch,  by 
patriotism.  But  in  Lucrece,  Clarigene,  and  Alcionee  love,  though 
still  important,  is  less  powerful  than  chastity,  justice,  and  loyalty 
to  the  royal  caste.  In  Saul  sexual  love  plays  a  very  small  part ; 
it  is  replaced  in  the  hero  by  patriotism  and  paternal  devotion. 
In  Sceuole,  Esther,  and  Themistocle  patriotism  is  the  chief  motive. 
In  the  last  tragi-comedies  love  again  takes  the  leading  position, 

1  Cleomedon.  '  Argents  et  Poliarque. 

J  Clitophon,  Lisandre  et  Caliste,  Argents  et  Poliarque,  Vendanges. 
4  Lisandre  et  Caliste. 

*  Argents  et  Poliarque.     It  may  be  added  that  the  dream  is  seldom  used.     Its 
presence  in  Saul,  IV,  3,  has  no  effect  on  the  plot. 


A  GENERAL  CRITICISM  157 

contending  with  pride,  ambition,  and  egoism.  There  is  no  play 
from  which  love  is  entirely  absent,  but  in  those  that  pay  most 
attention  to  a  study  of  motive  it  is  used  as  a  subordinate  force 
and  is  overcome  by  some  unselfish  emotion,  chiefly  patriotism. 

Du  Ryer's  purpose  is  primarily  aesthetic,  not  moral.  The 
difference  between  his  early  and  late  work  is  not  in  the  ultimate 
aim,  but  in  the  means  of  attaining  it.  His  pastoral  and  his  early 
tragi-comedies  amuse  by  interesting  the  audience  in  the  fortunes 
of  the  lovers.  His  comedy  adds  to  this  a  study  of  manners.  His 
tragedies,  written  on  a  higher  plane,  try  chiefly  to  rouse  pity  or 
admiration.  Alcionee  is  a  tragedy  of  love  and  death;  Said, 
more  nearly  Greek,  relates  the  noble  struggle  of  a  sinning  mor- 
tal against  the  implacable  vengeance  of  the  Divinity.  Lucrece, 
Esther,  Sceuole,  and  Themistocle  are  Cornelian  in  their  endeavor 
to  excite  admiration  for  the  deeds  of  the  leading  persons.  In- 
fluenced by  these  plays,  the  later  tragi-comedies  draw  their 
interest  now  from  heroic  deeds  of  sacrifice,  now  from  the  events 
of  a  love  intrigue. 

But  these  plays  are  moral,  though  not  primarily  so.  Except 
occasionally  in  Amarittis*  and  the  Vcndanges,*  the  language  is 
remarkably  free  from  coarseness,  even  in  the  treatment  of  so 
difficult  a  subject  as  the  story  of  Lucrece.  Indecent  passages  in 
the  source  of  Clitophon  are  omitted.  Adultery  is  condemned  in 
the  case  of  Tarquin,  Haman,  Nicocrate,  Tersandre,  and  Melite. 
Aretaphile  and  Caliste  do  not  gratify  their  lovers  till  after  their 
husbands'  death.  Maxims  of  virtue  and  wisdom  are  freely 
used,  but  Du  Ryer  does  not  make  the  mistake  of  always  punish- 
ing vice  and  rewarding  virtue.  He  teaches  rather  by  the  creation 
of  strong  characters  who  adhere  to  noble  standards  at  the  cost  of 
happiness  or  life. 

Nowhere  is  the  evolution  through  which  the  art  of  Du  Ryer 
passed  more  apparent  than  in  his  choice  of  time  and  place. 
The  events  of  Argenis  et  Foliar  que  and  its  continuation,  Argenis, 
cover  more  than  a  year.3  The  events  of  the  other  early 
tragi-comedies  and  of  Cleomedon  require  several  months.  Even 
in  a  single  act  events  may  occur  that  stretch  over  more  than 
twenty-four  hours.4  In  Alcimedon  Du  Ryer  obeys  the  twenty- 
four-hour  rule  and  allows  no  unfilled  periods  within  an  act. 

'II,  3;  IV,  2.  'II,  4,  5:  HI,  3;  V,  1,8. 

3  Cf.  Argenis,  III,  4.  « Cf.  Aretaphile,  III;  Argenis,  V. 


158  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

The  Vendanges  seems  to  cover  several  days.  Amarillis,  Saul,  and 
Lucrece  require  only  twenty-four  hours,  divided  into  a  night  and 
part  of  two  days.  The  other  plays  are  so  vague  in  their  allusions 
to  time  that  it  is  impossible  to  state  exactly  the  number  of  hours 
they  need,  but  apparently  twelve  is  enough  for  any  one  of  them, 
while  the  time  that  elapses  in  Alcionee,  Sceuole,  Berenice,  Themis- 
tocle,  Nitocris,  and  Amarillis  seems  little  more  than  that  necessary 
to  the  actual  representation  of  each  play. 

In  his  comedy,  the  Vendanges,  Du  Ryer  describes  contempo- 
rary life  near  Paris.  In  Lisandre  et  Calistc,  Cleomedon,  and  the 
beginning  of  Argenis  et  Poliarque  he  places  the  action  in  France 
during  the  middle  ages.  But  he  soon  comes  to  believe  in  the 
artistic  value  of  distance  in  space  and  time,  so  that,  as  far  as  can 
be  determined,  his  other  plays  represent  foreign  countries  in  the 
ancient  world.  Sicily  and  Mauritania  figure  in  Argenis;  the 
environs  of  Rome,  in  Lucrece  and  Sceuole;  of  Athens,  in  Clarigene. 
The  location  of  Anaxandre  is  not  given;  that  of  Amarillis  is  the 
pastoral  Arcadia.  The  plots  of  the  nine  remaining  plays  are 
enacted  in  the  Orient :  in  Asia  Minor,  Crete,  Cyprus,  Egypt,  Lybia, 
Syria,  Babylon,  and  Susa. 

The  author's  ideas  of  unity  in  place  develop  in  much  the  same 
way  as  his  ideas  of  unity  in  time.  Clitophon  introduces  three 
countries;  Argenis  et  Poliarque  and  Argenis,  two  each.  The 
location  is  so  readily  altered  from  one  scene  to  the  next  that 
within  the  first  act  of  Argenis  et  Poliarque  it  changes  from  Sicily 
to  France  and  again  to  Sicily.  The  other  early  plays  allow  change 
of  place  within  the  act,1  but  they  do  not  extend  this  usage  to  a 
change  of  country.  Each  act  of  Clitophon,3  taken  separately, 
has  about  the  unity  of  Aretaphile  and  Cleomedon,  that  of  a  town 
and  a  camp  situated  near  it.  Lisandre  et  Caliste  includes  Paris 
and  a  "desert"  at  a  considerable  distance  from  the  city. 

The  tendency  to  restrict  the  place  is  carried  further  in  Alcime- 
don,  one  of  the  first  French  plays  to  observe  the  rules  for  unity 
of  time  and  place  as  they  are  understood  in  the  Cid.  No  changes 
are  allowed  within  the  individual  acts  and  the  places  represented 
are  a  house,  garden,  and  forest  on  one  estate.  But  Du  Ryer  was 
not  yet  ready  for  a  complete  acceptance  of  these  unities.  Cle- 
omedon has  already  been  referred  to  as  violating  the  unity  of  the 

1  Cf.  Aretaphile,  III;  Lisandre  et  Caliste,  I;  Cleomedon,  I. 

*  Cf.  the  preface  to  the  manuscript  of  Clitophon,  cited  above. 


A  GENERAL  CRITICISM  I59 

act  and  extending  the  place  slightly  beyond  the  limits  of  a  town, 
the  time  over  several  months.  In  Amarillis  the  twenty-four- 
hour  rule  is  observed,  but  the  place  includes  several  localities 
in  a  large  forest  and  the  scene  changes  from  one  of  them  to 
another  within  the  act.1  The  Vendanges  violates  the  rule  of 
twenty-four  hours  and  changes  the  place  within  the  act. 2  It  is 
only  with  Lucrece  that  he  finally  accepts  the  unities  of  both  place 
and  time. 

Some  freedom  in  regard  to  the  place  is  still  allowed,  however. 
The  action  in  Clarigene  takes  place  in  the  senate-house  and  a 
space  before  the  house  of  Licidas.  The  scene  of  Saul,  laid  in  the 
environs  of  Gelboe,  includes  a  tent,  a  witch's  cave,  a  clump  of 
trees  on  a  battle-field,  localities  that  are  so  near  together  that 
Saul  passes  from  the  first  to  the  second  during  a  single  scene, 3  and 
the  stage  seems  to  represent  a  few  acres  only.  Berenice  includes 
two  houses.  Sceuole  requires  only  a  space  between  two  tents. 
Each  of  the  remaining  seven  plays  has  its  scene  laid  in  one  house. 
The  stage  directions  are  usually  too  vague  to  make  it  certain  just 
how  many  rooms  are  represented.  Lucrece  undoubtedly  requires 
two;  Dynamis  and  Alcionee,  probably  only  one;  the  others,  prob- 
ably two.  In  none  of  these  eleven  plays  is  there  a  change  of  place 
within  the  act  except  in  the  instance  just  cited  from  Saul,  where 
the  two  places  are  so  close  together  that  it  requires  little  scenic 
imagination  to  accept  their  simultaneous  representation. 

In  short,  some  of  Du  Ryer's  early  plays  represent  the  middle 
ages  or  modern  times  and  his  own  country;  some  include  more 
than  one  country  and  represent  events  that  cover  a  number  of 
months ;  most  of  them  allow  the  change  of  place  within  the  act. 
With  Amarillis  he  first  observes  the  twenty-four-hour  rule.  With 
Alcimedon  he  not  only  does  this,  but  reduces  the  scene  to  a  few 
places  near  together,  and  allows  no  violation  of  the  unity  of  the 
act.  With  Lucrece  he  restricts  the  scene  to  two  rooms,  a  usage 
followed  in  most  of  his  subsequent  plays.  In  the  tragedies  and 
in  the  tragi-comedies  published  after  1636  he  lays  his  scene  in 
other  countries  than  France,  usually  in  ancient  times,  and  is  strict 
in  preserving  the  unities  of  time  and  place. 

The  plays  show  much  variation  with  regard  to  the  unity  of 
action.  In  all  of  them  there  is  a  person  or  group  of  persons  in 
whom  the  interest  of  the  play  centers,  but  there  may  also  be 

'Cf.  Ill,  2,  3;  IV,  2,  3;  V,  1,2.         'Cf.I,2,3;  IV.3,4:  V.5,6.         »III,  3- 


160  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

subordinate  persons  or  detached  incidents  that  lessen  the  unity 
of  the  whole.  The  first  five  tragi-comedies  contain  episodes  that 
do  not  proceed  logically  one  from  another.  In  Clitophon,  the 
clearest  example  of  this  type  of  structure,  there  are  five  of  these 
episodes,  each  resulting  in  the  escape  of  hero  or  heroine  from 
persons  that  had  not  been  heard  of  a  few  scenes  before. *  Similarly 
Alcimedon,  though  more  carefully  written  than  the  plays  that  pre- 
cede it,  violates  the  unity  of  action  by  an  introductory  episode. 
Even  so  late  a  play  as  Dynamis  is  loosely  constructed.  But  in 
most  plays  that  preserve  the  unity  of  time  and  place  this  type  of 
violation  does  not  occur. 

A  more  frequent  violation  of  the  unity  of  action  lies  in  the 
use  of  the  subordinate  plot  that  is  unconnected  with  the  main  plot. 
This  often  results  from  the  introduction  of  two  or  more  pairs  of 
lovers, a  of  a  second  woman  to  console  a  rejected  lover,3  or  of 
other  persons  whose  actions  do  not  affect  the  main  theme. 4  At 
times  this  subordinate  plot  may  be  reduced  to  the  dimensions  of 
a  single  scene,  where  it  is  introduced  for  comic  or  emotional  effect.  * 

In  general,  Du  Ryer  shows  far  greater  unity  in  his  tragedies 
and  late  tragi-comedies  than  he  does  in  his  early  works.  Lucrece, 
Alcionie,  and  Nitocris  are  fine  examples  of  a  simple,  logical  struc- 
ture that  admits  no  external  elements.  Saul  and  Sceuole,  with 
their  more  complex  subjects,  unite  by  a  large  central  theme  a 
number  of  apparently  heterogeneous  incidents. 

Except  in  his  loosely  constructed  plays,  where  independent 
situations  and  new  characters  are  encountered  throughout  the 
work,  the  exposition  of  the  plot  is  confined  to  the  first  act  and 
opening  scenes  of  the  second,  and  all  important  persons  are  intro- 
duced or  mentioned  in  the  first  act.  The  protagonist  may  be 
on  the  stage  when  the  curtain  rises,  as  in  Saul,  or  his  actual 
appearance  may  be  delayed  till  the  second  act,  as  in  Themistocle. 
Even  in  the  loosely  built  plays  the  lovers  appear  in  the  first  act. 
The  exposition  is  usually  made  by  references  to  previous  events; 
more  rarely  it  is  inferred  from  the  expressed  intentions  of  the 
actors.  The  direct  references  are  sometimes  carelessly  made,  in 

'  I,  escape  from  parents;  II-III,  2,  from  those  who  would  sacrifice  Lucipe;  III, 
2-13,  from  Charmide;  IV,  from  Melite;  V,  from  Tersandre. 
1  Cf.  Amarillis,  Cleomedon,  Berenice. 

*  Cf.  Argents. 

4  Cf .  Vasthi  in  Esther,  Roxane  in  Themistocle. 

*  Cf .  Arelaphile,  II,  5;  Cleomedon,  I,  3;  Themistocle,  I,  2. 


A  GENERAL  CRITICISM  161 

monologues1  and  in  conversations  with  persons  already  possessed 
of  the  facts2  or  introduced  solely  for  the  sake  of  having  these 
explanations  given  them. 3  In  other  cases  the  confidence  is  made 
naturally,  either  by  the  giving  of  needed  information, «  by  schem- 
ing5 and  debates6  which  involve  statements  of  fact,  or,  rarely,  by 
physical  action. 7  In  three  early  plays  the  first  part  of  this  exposi- 
tion takes  the  form  of  the  monologue,  inherited  from  Seneca  and 
Hardy,  but  Du  Ryer  soon  adopts  the  more  dramatic  dialogue, 
which  he  uses  in  thirteen  plays.  Elsewhere  the  opening  conver- 
sation is  made  by  three  persons.  This  is  particularly  noteworthy 
in  Saul. 

In  all  of  the  plays  except  the  tragedies  and  Nitocris,  the  nceud 
is  formed  by  the  struggle  of  the  lovers  against  parents,  rivals, 
and  their  own  jealousy  or  ignorance.  As  the  lovers  do  not  ques- 
tion their  right  to  love  and  its  gratification,  there  is  usually  no 
problem8  in  their  souls.  They  seek  only  to  escape  certain  persons 
and  situations  that  prevent  their  union.  Except  in  Argenis  et 
Poliarque,  this  love-affair  begins  before  the  play  does.  Its  cul- 
mination in  marriage  gives  the  plays  their  denouements.  The 
means  employed  to  bring  about  this  solution  often  resemble  the 
deus  ex  machind.  In  the  Vendanges  an  inheritance  comes  to  the 
lover;  in  Lisandre  et  Caliste  and  Amarillis  remarks  are  acciden- 
tally overheard;  in  Clitophon,  Alcimedon,  Clarigene,  and  Anaxandre 
persons  arrive  by  chance  at  the  right  moment;  in  Amarillis , 
again,  there  is  repentance  without  sufficient  motivation.  Similar 
cases  are  offered  when  Cleomedon  turns  out  to  be  a  prince,  when 
Arcombrotte  discovers  that  Argenis  is  his  sister,  and  when  the 
qui  pro  quo  of  Clarigene  is  explained.  In  Berenice,  also,  the  de- 
nouement is  produced  by  the  discovery  of  relationship,  but  the 
work  remains  united,  for  it  is  the  events  of  the  play  that  force  the 
father  to  reveal  his  son's  identity.  In  Aretapliile  and  Dynamis 
the  denouement  is  made  largely  by  the  lovers'  efforts. 

In  the  tragedies  and  Nitocris  love  is  subordinated  to  what  are 
considered  nobler  passions.  In  the  other  plays  Du  Ryer  appeals 
chiefly  to  his  audience's  romantic  instincts,  but  in  these  he  tries 

1  Cf.  Aretaphile,  Argenis,  Lisandre  et  Caliste. 

*  Cf.  Alcimedon,  Berenice,  Alcionee,  Esther. 

J  Cf.  Clitophon,  Cleomedon,  Clarigene,  Themistode.  «  Cf.  Sceuole. 

s  Cf.  Argenis  et  Poliarque,  Vendanges,  Dynamis,  Nitocris. 

6  Cf.  Amarillis,  Lucrece,  Saul,  Anaxandre. 

7  Cf.  Lisandre  et  Caliste. 

8  But  cf .  Clarigene,  IV. 


1 62  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

to  rouse  their  admiration  or  their  pity  and  puts  the  struggle 
in  the  souls  of  the  leading  persons.  Thus,  the  rescue  of  a  nation 
forms  the  nceud  of  Esther  and  Sceuole;  patriotism  and  fidelity 
are  shown  in  Nitocris,  Themistocle,  and  Lucrece,  struggling  with 
sexual  love,  ambition,  or  love  of  life;  the  hopeless  conflict  of  a 
guilty  but  penitent  man  against  the  monarchical  idea  and  a 
hostile  Divinity  is  the  subject  of  Alcionee  and  Saul.  The 
denouements  of  most  of  these  plays  result  logically  from  the 
actions  represented  in  them.  The  suicides  of  Lucrece,  Saul,  and 
Alcionee  are  the  natural  outcome  of  the  situations  in  which  they 
are  placed;  the  pardon  of  Sceuole  and  Themistocle  and  the 
rescue  of  their  cities  from  impending  disaster  result  as  naturally 
from  the  events  of  the  plays  in  which  they  figure  and  from  the 
characters  of  Porsenne  and  Xerces.  It  is  in  Esther  only  that  the 
denouement  is  produced  by  external  means.  It  may  be  noticed 
here  that  Du  Ryer,  like  Corneille,  applied  the  term  tragedy  to 
plays  of  happy  as  well  as  unhappy  termination,  provided  they 
discussed  a  lofty  theme  in  a  serious  manner. 

The  familiar  division  into  five  acts  is  made  in  every  play,  but 
the  unity  of  the  act  is  not  carefully  preserved  in  the  early  pieces. 
It  has  been  shown  that  in  them  place  may  change  and  time  elapse 
between  two  scenes  of  an  act.  It  is  also  true  that  the  acts  do  not 
always  mark  the  main  divisions  of  the  plot.  In  Aretaphile,  for 
instance,  the  plan  for  the  murder  of  Nicocrate  is  formed  in  the 
eleventh  scene  of  the  third  act  and  carried  out  in  the  fourth  act ; 
in  Clarigene  the  brother's  return  occurs  in  the  middle  of  the  fourth 
act;  the  accusation  of  murder  is  brought  against  Poliante  in 
Dynamis,  in,  8,  and  not  at  the  beginning  of  an  act.  But  the  plays 
that  preserve  the  unities  of  time  and  place  allow  time  to  elapse 
and  the  scene  to  shift  from  one  room  to  another  only  between  the 
acts.  The  plays  that  preserve  the  unity  of  action  most  carefully 
are  those  in  which  the  divisions  of  the  plot  correspond  best  with 
the  separate  acts. 

There  are  never  less  than  two  nor  more  than  thirteen  scenes 
in  an  act.  Aretaphile  and  Clilophon  contain  fifty -eight  scenes  each, 
but  the  other  plays  average  only  five  to  an  act  with  a  tendency  to 
increase  the  number  slightly  in  the  last  five  plays.  In  Argent's  et 
Poliarque1  and  Alcimedon2  entrances  take  place  without  creating 
new  scenes.  In  Amarillis,3  Lucrece,4  and  Dynamis5  a  person 

«  Cf.  II,  I ;  III,  I ;  IV,  2.          •  V,  2.          » I,  2.          «  III,  4.         s  Last  scene. 


A  GENERAL  CRITICISM  163 

leaves  the  stage  and  returns  without  a  change  of  scene.  In 
almost  all  other  cases  the  failure  to  mark  the  new  scene  occurs 
when  a  person  remains  on  the  stage  for  a  brief  monologue. '  In 
the  tragedies,  with  the  exception  of  the  case  just  referred  to  from 
Lucrece,  this  is  the  only  kind  of  departure  from  the  rule  that 
requires  the  scene  to  change  as  often  as  does  the  number  of  people 
on  the  stage.  Exits  and  entrances  are  often  satisfactorily  ex- 
plained, but  at  times  they  are  insufficiently  motivated  and  seem 
to  occur  merely  to  create  a  desired  situation. 

Du  Ryer  undoubtedly  knew  the  value  of  a  dramatic  situation. 
He  never  fails,  as  Gamier  did  in  Bradamante,  to  put  the  lovers  on 
the  stage  without  the  presence  of  other  persons.  He  leaves  his 
source  in  order  to  create  the  scene  between  Vasthi  and  Esther,  * 
delays  the  arrival  of  information  that  would  prevent  the  scene 
between  Cephise  and  Celie,3  Tarsis  and  Berenice,4  Haman  and 
Esther.5  In  his  early  plays  he  frequently  creates  entertaining 
situations;  in  his  tragedies  he  strives  to  show  his  characters 
struggling  with  each  other  or  debating  problems  in  their  souls. 

The  staging  of  the  early  plays  was  elaborate.  As  a  rule, 
the  different  places  in  which  the  scene  was  laid  were  represented 
simultaneously,  but  in  some  instances  a  locality  in  the  back  of 
the  stage  appeared  in  one  or  two  acts  and  was  hidden  in  the  others, 
while  the  screen  used  to  conceal  it  represented  a  second  locality. 
In  Lisandre  et  Caliste,  for  example,  a  prison  and  a  butcher's  shop, 
depicted  in  the  back  of  the  stage,  are  hidden  except  in  the  second 
act  by  a  "fermeture"  representing  a  palace.  It  was  also  possible 
to  represent  localities  placed  one  above  the  other,  as  in  Clitophon, 
where  there  is  a  mountain  with  an  altar  upon  it  and  a  prison 
beneath  it.  The  plays  that  preserve  the  unity  of  place  do  not 
show  this  arrangement,  but  they  seem  to  allow  the  back  of  the 
stage  to  open.6  A  glance  at  Mahelot's  Memoire  shows  the  varied 
properties  required  by  the  early  plays  as  well  as  the  simple  needs 
of  Sceuole,  which  in  this  respect  typifies  the  tragedies  and  late 
tragi-comedies. 

Du  Ryer  lays  little  stress  on  local  color.  His  knowledge  of 
geography  is  inexact,  for  he  places  Athens  on  the  sea-shore, 

'  Cf.  Cleomedon,  II,  4;  IV,  l:  Alcionee,  I,  i;  II,  3;  III,  4,  51  IV,  i:  Saul,  IV,  i: 
Sceuole,  II,  4;  III,  3:  Themistocle,  V,  2:  Vendanges,  I,  4  and  IV,  9:  Dynamis,  III,  I. 
1  Esther,  III,  3.  *  Clarigene,  V,  2.  *  Berenice,  V,  2. 

s  Esther,  III,  5. 
6  Cf.  Clarigene,  IV,  I  and  Nitocris,  III,  4. 


1 64  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Gilboa  in  Judea,  a  mountain  in  the  Egyptian  Delta,  and  French 
flora  in  Lybia.  His  treatment  of  historical  manners  is  not  accu- 
rate. Even  when  he  preserves  the  main  facts  of  the  history 
that  he  treats,  he  takes  his  details  from  the  customs  of  his  own 
time  and  land.  Neither  contemporary  usage  nor  the  taste 
of  his  audience  required  a  more  careful  handling  of  historical 
material. 

Du  Ryer's  treatment  of  character  deserves  special  attention. x 
Since  plays  of  varied  action  and  picturesque  situations  usually 
require  a  large  cast,  it  is  not  surprising  to  find  that  the  first  five 
tragi-comedies  average  as  many  as  twenty  persons  besides  troops 
of  soldiers,  courtiers,  and  peasants.  Later,  when  the  number  of 
episodes  is  decreased  and  the  characters  are  studied  with  greater 
care,  the  size  of  the  cast  diminishes,  averaging  ten  or  eleven  in 
the  second  group  of  plays,  eight  or  nine  in  the  tragedies,  seven  or 
eight  in  the  last  four  tragi-comedies.  Du  Ryer  does  not  restrict 
the  number  of  persons  that  may  appear  on  the  stage  at  the  same 
time.  He  is  apt  to  begin  his  plays  with  only  two  persons  visible 
and  end  them  with  most  of  his  persons  on  the  stage.  The  only 
play  in  which  the  lovers  do  not  appear  in  the  last  scene  is  Argenis 
et  Poliarque,  the  plot  of  which  does  not  terminate  till  the  end  of 
Argenis,  its  companion  tragi -comedy. 

There  is  little  development  of  character,  for  in  the  early  plays 
the  treatment  is  superficial,  while  later,  like  other  classicists, 
Du  Ryer  represents  each  person  at  a  fixed  moment  of  his  life. 
Nevertheless,  there  are  cases  in  which  the  characters  change. 
Philarque  in  Aretaphile  and  Esther  grow  stronger  as  greater 
demands  upon  them  are  made.  Tirsis  in  the  Vendanges,  Licidas 
in  Clarigene,  Cephise  in  Anaxandre  forget  their  selfish  interests 
under  the  influence  of  circumstances  or  the  example  of  other 
persons.  Saul,  at  first  tyrannical  and  bewildered,  gradually 
attains  a  clear  perception  of  his  situation  and  a  fine  capacity  for 
self-sacrifice. 

The  rank  of  the  leading  persons  in  the  tragedies  and  tragi- 
comedies is  noble.  Sovereigns  appear  in  all  of  them  except 
Alcimedon  and  Clarigene.  In  the  case  of  Themistocle  and  of 
Cleodate,  the  protagonist  is  not  born  a  noble,  but  he  has  been 
raised  to  his  rank  by  worthy  deeds  and  the  ruler's  favor.  The 

1  As  the  individual  characters  have  been  discussed  with  the  plays  in  which  they 
are  found,  I  treat  here  only  the  author's  general  methods  of  characterization. 


A  GENERAL  CRITICISM  165 

minor  persons  in  the  tragedies  and  late  tragi-comedies  are  either 
noble  or  attendants  upon  the  nobility,  with  the  exception  of  the 
"  pythonisse  "  in  Saill.  The  early  tragi-comedies  admit  members 
of  the  lower  and  middle  classes,  peasants,  doctors,  a  captive,  a  mad- 
man, a  jailer,  a  butcher  and  his  wife,  a  pilot,  but  in  the  leading 
rdles  they  have  only  aristocrats.  In  the  comedy  and  the  pastoral, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  chief  persons  are  bourgeois. 

The  protagonist  usually  gives  his  name  to  the  play.  In  the 
early  plays  the  leading  male  character  is  endowed  with  physical 
courage  and  respect  for  the  heroine's  chastity,  but  he  may  be  weak, 
deceitful,  or  forgetful  of  his  duties  to  his  country.  There  are 
timid  lovers  in  the  comedy  and  the  pastoral,  bold  ones  in  some  of 
the  tragi-comedies.  In  short,  these  early  heroes  show  character- 
istics of  two  literary  types  from  which  they  descend,  the  lovers 
of  the  pastoral  novel  and  those  of  the  chivalric  romance.  In 
Clarigene  and  the  tragedies  the  male  protagonists  show  that  they 
feel  moral  responsibility.  They  are  now  characterized  not  so 
much  by  their  love  and  their  adventures  as  by  the  moral  struggle 
through  which  they  pass.  Some1  are  tragic  figures,  largely  re- 
sponsible for  their  own  afflictions.  Others2  are  heroes  who  win 
our  admiration  by  their  victories  over  selfish  interests.  We  find 
here  a  more  careful  study  of  motive  and  firmer  characterizations. 
In  the  late  tragi-comedies,  on  the  other  hand,  the  hero  is  subordi- 
nated to  the  heroine,  is  tested  by  no  serious  moral  problem, 
and  remains  a  superficial  product  of  the  author's  imagination. 
The  heroines  of  the  early  plays  have  no  other  motive  for  their 
actions  than  love,  and  seldom  exert  themselves  to  influence  their 
own  fortunes.  Lucrece  is  the  first  to  encounter  a  large  moral 
problem.  Many  of  the  heroines  take  a  stern  delight  in  con- 
quering their  passions;  others,  like  Celie  and  Esther,  are  equally 
faithful  to  duty  and  display  a  less  boastful  and  more  generous 
spirit. 

Besides  the  main  rdles,  Du  Ryer  introduces,  especially  into  his 
tragi-comedies,  subordinate  lovers  and  rivals  who  contribute  to 
the  plot  by  assisting  or  obstructing  the  hero  and  heroine,  fill 
a  play  that  might  otherwise  seem  empty,  and  throw  into  relief 
the  more  important  persons.  Their  characters  vary  from  the 
chivalrous  Arcombrotte,  Celiante,  and  Arons  to  the  tyrannical 

1  Cf.  Collatin,  Alcion£e,  Saul.  '  Cf  Porsenne,  Sceuole,  Themistocle. 


166  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

Nicocrate  and  the  hypocritical  Tersandre;  from  the  haughty 
Vasthi  to  the  sentimental  Rodope  and  the  humble  Roxane.  Several 
times,  especially  in  the  plays  where  court  intrigue  is  conspicuous, 
ambition  supersedes  love  as  the  rival's  main  motive.  So,  too, 
villains  are  found  who  are  not  rivals  at  all,  like  the  king  in  Alcionee 
or  Tarquin  in  Sceuole. 

The  fathers  form  an  important  class.  Though  usually  impe- 
rious and  narrow,  especially  in  choosing  mates  for  their  children, 
they  at  times  atone  for  their  severity  by  a  fine  sense  of  right  and 
a  passionate  devotion  to  their  offspring.1  Mothers  are  omitted 
from  most  of  the  plays  and  are  never  given  r61es  of  importance. 
Argire  in  Cleomedon  and  Mandane  in  Themistocle  are  more  con- 
cerned with  their  own  vengeance  than  they  are  with  maternal 
emotions.  Doripe  in  the  Vendanges,  despite  her  farcical  char- 
acter, is  more  nearly  the  typical  mother. 

The  rulers  are  conspicuous.  They  illustrate  the  three  classes 
described  by  Corneille:2  that  of  king,  concerned  with  affairs  of 
state;  that  of  man,  moved  by  his  own  passions  and  interests; 
that  of  judge,  who  decides  the  fate  of  others  without  mention  of 
his  own  affairs  or  those  of  the  state.  Some  of  them  have  interests 
of  their  own  and  attend  to  political  and  judicial  affairs  as  well. 
The  sovereign  may  be  weak,  selfish,  and  criminal,  or  brave  and 
intelligent.  Du  Ryer's  acceptance  of  the  monarchical  system 
does  not  make  him  sacrifice  his  art  in  its  defense. 

Among  the  subordinate  characters  should  be  mentioned  the 
mentor, 3  the  friend,  servants,  heralds,  and  soldiers.  Confidants 
are  introduced  into  many  of  the  plays  to  show  the  audience  the 
facts  of  the  plot  or  the  feelings  and  purposes  of  the  important 
persons.  Sometimes  they  have  interests  of  their  own  that  serve 
to  characterize  them,  but  they  are  usually  colorless  and  parasitic. 
As  the  few  important  events  that  take  place  off  the  stage  are 
ordinarily  described  to  the  audience  by  important  persons,  the 
special  rdle  of  messenger  is  taken  only  by  a  few  obscure  persons, 
who  tell  of  insignificant  events  or  announce  new  arrivals. 

Finally  there  are  the  comic  characters,  always  subordinate, 
but  filling  a  considerable  portion  of  at  least  one  play,  the  Ven- 
danges.  Some  are  types  already  seen  in  the  French  farce  and 
the  Roman  comedy.  The  husband  and  wife  who  quarrel  over 

1  Cf.  Licidas  in  Clarigene  and  Saul.  '  Cf.  Examen  de  Clitandre. 

» Brutus,  Mardoch^e. 


A  GENERAL  CRITICISM  167 

their  daughter's  marriage  and  complain  of  each  other's  obstinacy 
and  loquacity  are  found  in  the  Vendanges.  The  old  man  in 
love  appears  in  Amarillis.  Gros  Guillaume,  become  a  butcher  in 
Lisandre  et  Caliste,  a  cattle-driver  in  Amarillis,  a  vintager  in  the 
Vendanges,  still  retains  many  characteristics  of  the  Roman  para- 
site. The  fol  in  Argenis  suggests  the  miles  gloriosus,  and  the 
physician  of  the  same  play,  with  his  false  diagnosis  and  profes- 
sional quarrel,  was  already  a  familiar  figure  on  several  stages.  But 
it  should  be  noted  that  the  go-between  of  Roman  comedy  has 
largely  ceased  to  be  a  comic  character, x  that  the  clever  valet  is 
omitted,  that  the  miles  gloriosus  is  represented  only  by  a  mad- 
man, that  the  Italian  pedant  does  not  occur,  and  that  the  cuckold 
is  seldom  mentioned.2  Especially  important  is  the  fact  that 
Clarinde  of  Lisandre  et  Caliste  and  Lisete  of  the  Vendanges  are 
two  of  the  first  suivantes  endowed  with  the  modern  French  spirit 
rather  than  that  of  the  classic  nurse,  her  predecessor.  In  short, 
the  most  important  comic  characters  are  mainly  French  pro- 
ducts, although  characters  that  resemble  them  can  be  found  on 
the  Roman  and  Italian  stages. 

Apart  from  witticisms  of  distinctly  comic  persons,  laughter  is 
produced  by  situations  in  which  a  villain  receives  the  ill-treatment 
he  had  intended  for  another;3  in  which  there  is  a  mistake  in 
identity4  or  a  misunderstanding  of  another's  intention;5  by  the 
dress  or  general  appearance  of  some  person;6  ;by  puns,  tricks, 
lovers'  conceits;  occasionally  by  cynical  observations  concerning 
women. 7  These  comic  passages  are  not  found  in  the  tragedies,  or 
to  any  extent  in  the  late  tragi-comedies ;  they  occur  in  the  early 
tragi-comedies  and  the  pastoral,  most  largely  in  the  comedy,  where 
alone  comic  passages  and  representation  of  manners  occupy  a  large 
portion  of  the  play. 

The  elimination  of  comic  elements  from  the  plays  accompanies 
the  concentration  in  place,  time,  and  number  of  persons,  and  the 
simplification  of  plot  and  scenery  to  which  reference  has  been 
made.  All  these  qualities  are  indications  of  Du  Ryer's  progress 

1  Cf.  Argenis  et  Poliarque  and  Lucrece;  Nerine  in  Alcimedon  is  the  only  exception. 

2  Amarillis,  II,  i;  Lisandre  et  Caliste,  II,  2. 
J  Clitophon,  V,  13;  Nitocris,  IV,  2. 

4  Clarigene,  II,  6:  Alcimedon,  II,  5;  III,  2. 

5  Berenice,  11,2. 

6  Aretaphile,  III,  9  and  V,  8;  Cleomedon,  V,  2. 

t  Argenis  et  Poliarque,  II,  2:  Clitophon,  I,  3;  II,  10;  IV,  5:  Aretaphile,  IV,  6. 


1 68  PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 

towards  classic  unity  of  tone  and  form.  Other  evidences  of  this 
process  are  furnished  by  his  treatment  of  lyric  and  descriptive 
passages.  With  the  exception  of  the  prose  Berenice,  all  but  seven 
of  his  plays  are  written  entirely  in  Alexandrine  couplets.  In 
Clitophon1  elegiac  stanzas  are  delivered  by  the  imprisoned  hero; 
in  Argents  et  Poliarque*  a  song  and  a  hymn  occur;  in  the  Ven- 
danges, 3  a  love  letter  and  a  drinking  song;  in  Cleomedon4  there  is  a 
lover's  lament.  The  chief  variety  is  shown  by  Amarillis,5  which 
contains  a  sonnet,  lyric  inscriptions  and  lamentations,  a  passage 
with  echo  responses,  and  an  argument  in  Alexandrines  that  do  not 
rime  in  couplets.  The  two  earliest  tragedies  contain  a  brief  letter6 
and  stanzas  devoted  to  a  soliloquy  on  love  and  duty. 7  In  all  of 
these  cases  the  eight-syllable  line  is  chiefly  used,  sometimes  varied 
by  the  addition  of  six-syllable  verses  and  Alexandrines.  No  such 
metrical  freedom  exists  in  the  tragedies  and  tragi-comedies  pub- 
lished after  1640. 

Descriptive  passages  occur  frequently  in  the  early  plays.  They 
impede  the  action  without  beautifying  the  verses,  for  the  expres- 
sions employed  are  exaggerated  or  insipid,  the  metaphors  are 
commonplace  and  frequently  mixed,  color  is  used  rarely  and 
vaguely,  the  terms  are  seldom  concrete,  and  there  is  little  impres- 
sion of  actual  vision.  Du  Ryer  is  far  enough  from  Seneca  to 
escape  the  sins  of  excessive  classical  allusion  and  misplaced  learn- 
ing, but  the  affectations  of  his  own  day  creep  into  most  of  his 
descriptive  work.  It  is  not  surprising  that,  as  he  improves  his 
art,  he  largely  abandons  description  along  with  elaborate  stage- 
setting  and  devotes  himself  to  a  soberer  and  swifter  style.  So  he 
makes  Licidas  urge  his  son  to  omit  the  "preface  importune"8  in 
relating  his  adventures.  Events  are  described  quickly  and  without 
embellishment.  There  is  no  "recit  de  Theramene"  in  his  work. 

The  tragedies  and  late  tragi-comedies  are  clear,  often  eloquent, 
if  at  times  verbose.  Never  entirely  free  from  preciosite  and 
technical  carelessness  that  shows  itself  in  padded  lines  and  con- 
ventional rimes  and  phrases,  Du  Ryer,  by  his  large  study  of  the 
classics,  did  so  much  to  free  himself  from  these  faults  that  M. 
Reynier9  can  assert  with  truth  that  he  wrote  with  a  precision 


'V,2.  >II,  landV,  3.  J  III,  2,  and  V,  2.  «III,  i. 

«I,  i;  IV,  3  and  4;  III,  i. 

*  Lucrece,  V,  I.  *  Alcionee,  III,  I.  8  Clarigene,  IV,  4. 

•  Petit  de  Julleville,  Histoire  de  la  langue,  etc.,  iv,  387. 


A  GENERAL  CRITICISM  169 

rare  among  his  contemporaries.  Antithesis,  which  may  become 
paradox,  repetition  of  words,  brief  comparisons,  abstract  terms, 
neat  single  lines  expressing  a  general  truth  are  characteristic  of 
his  style.  He  possesses  the  qualities  of  the  orator  rather  than 
those  of  the  poet,  the  swelling  phrase,  the  maxim,  the  power  of 
generalization,  occasionally  the  subtlety  and  love  of  debate.  In 
reading  him  we  can  not  fail  to  think  of  Corneille,  whose  clearness, 
vigor,  and  rapidity  he  has  to  a  lesser  degree,  while  with  him  he 
lacks  grace  and  appeal  to  the  senses. 

The  likeness  to  Corneille  goes  further  than  these  stylistic 
similarities.  Both  men  were  fertile  writers  who  did  their  best 
work  in  French  tragedy  of  the  classic  type.  The  Cid's  combat 
of  love  and  honor  is  echoed  in  Alcwnee.  Du  Ryer  showed  Corneille 
that  religious  works  and  Roman  history  offer  good  subjects  for 
tragedy.  Celie  is  required  to  choose  between  a  brother  and  a 
lover,  much  as  is  Sabine.  Nitocris  and  Porsenne  take  counsel 
after  the  fashion  of  Cinna.  Proxene  resembles  Emilie;  Lydie,  the 
Infante.  Corneille  seems  to  have  received  from  Du  Ryer  at 
least  one  suggestion  for  the  Cid  and  to  have  given  him  lines  for 
Sceuole.*  Many  other  resemblances  occur,  due  not  so  much  to 
the  direct  influence  of  one  upon  the  other  as  to  the  fact  that  they 
were  trying  to  express  in  the  same  dramatic  forms  the  ideas  of 
the  same  society.  Du  Ryer  remains,  of  course,  distinctly  the 
inferior,  but  his  best  piece,  Sceuole,  and  parts  of  Themistocle, 
Esther,  and  Lucrece  might  readily  pass  for  Corneille's  own  work; 
there  is  a  unity  in  Alcionee  that  Corneille  does  not  attain;  and 
none  of  the  latter' s  unconquered  heroes  are  so  profoundly  tragic 
as  is  Saul. 

Du  Ryer's  direct  influence  was  not  large.  Racine  owes  him  a 
few  lines  in  Andromaque  and  suggestions  for  several  passages  in 
Esther.  Campistron,  Zeno,  and  Metastasio  used  his  Themistocle; 
Nadal  his  Saul.  La  Rochefoucauld  may  take  one  of  his  best 
maxims  from  his  Berenice.  His  suivantes  and  his  treatment  of 
contemporary  manners  in  the  Vendanges  were  probably  of  some 
value  to  Moliere.  But  Du  Ryer's  permanent  influence  does  not 
lie  here  so  much  as  in  the  substantial  work  he  did  in  establish- 
ing the  French  classic  tragedy.  He  formed  with  Corneille, 
Mairet,  Rotrou,  Scudery,  Tristan,  and  a  number  of  others  a  group 
of  writers  who  substituted  for  the  sensational  tragi-comedies  and 
1  Cf.,  above,  pp.  73  and  123- 


170 


PIERRE  Du  RYER,  DRAMATIST 


the  sentimental  pastorals  of  Hardy,  Theophile,  and  Gombaud  a 
simple,  elevated,  and  profound  type  of  tragedy,  which  exercised 
large  influence  and  remains,  not  the  greatest,  but  a  thoroughly 
important  variety  of  artistic  writing.  In  spite  of  Corneille's 
more  lasting  value,  his  fellow-workers  were  not  influenced  by  him 
more  considerably  than  he  was  by  them.  The  credit  for  the 
achievement  belongs  to  the  group,  and  in  this  Du  Ryer  held  a 
prominent  place. 


APPENDIX  A. 

DU  RYER'S  PLAYS. 

ARETAPHILE,  tragi-comedie,  first  played  about  1628,  MS.  in  the  Bi- 
bliotheque  Nationale. 

CLITOPHON,  tragi-comedie,  first  played  about  1628,  MS.  in  the  Biblio- 
theque  Nationale. 

ARGENIS  ET  POLIARQUE,  tragi-comedie,  premiere  iournee,  first  played 
about  1629;  permission  to  print,  February  25,  1630;  acheve 
d'imprimer,  May  10,  1630;  Paris,  8°. 

ARGENIS,  tragi-comedie,  seconde  iournte,  first  played  about  1629; 
permission,  April  18,  1631;  acheve  d'imprimer,  June  15,  1631; 
Paris,  8°. 

LISANDRE  ET  CALisiE,  tragi-comedie,  first  played  about  1630;  permis- 
sion, July  20,  1632;  acheve  d'imprimer,  August  5,  1632; 
Paris,  8°. 

AMARILLIS,  pastorale,  probably  first  played  1631-1633;  permission, 
September  26,  1650;  acheve  d'imprimer,  September  22,  1650; 
Paris,  4°. 

ALCIMEDON,  tragi-comedie,  first  played  1632-1633;  permission,  Novem- 
ber 18,  1634;  acheve  d'imprimer,  December  28,  1634;  Paris, 
4°;  ibid.,  1636,*  8°. 

LES  VENDANGES  DE  SURESNE,  comedie,  first  played  about  1633;  per- 
mission, April  26,  1635 ;  acheve  d'imprimer,  November  16,  1635 ; 
Paris,  4°;  ibid.  (1871),  8°,  in  the  second  volume  of  Fournier's 
Theatre  franqais  au  seizieme  et  au  dix-septi&me  siecle. 

CLEOMEDON,  tragi-comedie,  first  called  ROSSYLEON,  written  at  the  end 
of  1633  or  the  beginning  of  1634;  first  played  in  February, 
1634;  permission,  December  31,  1635;  acheve  d'imprimer, 
February  21,  1636;  Paris,  8°;  ibid.,  1637,  4°;  ibid.,  1638,  4°. 

LUCRECE,  tragedie,  first  played  about  1636;  permission,  May  21,  1638; 
acheve  d'imprimer,  July  20,  1638;  Paris,  4°. 

ALCIONEE,  tragedie,  probably  first  played  early  in  1637;  permission, 
April  13,  1640;  acheve  d'imprimer,  April  26,  1640;  Paris,  4°; 
ibid.,  1640,  8°;  ibid.,  1655,*  8°;  ibid.,  1705,  8°,  in  the  second 
volume  of  Theatre  franqois  ou  Recueil  des  meilleures  Pieces  du 
Theatre  des  Anciens  Auteurs;  Paris,  1737,  12°,  in  the  third 
volume  of  Theatre  franqois  ou  Recueil  des  meilleures  ptices  de 
theatre. 

1  The  copy  in  the  Harvard  library  with  a  torn  title-page,  dated  in  the  catalogue 
1635,  is  probably  the  same  edition  as  this. 

1  Cf.  Philipp,  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben  tind  dramatische  Werke,  49. 


172  APPENDIX  A 

CLARIGENE,  tragi-comedie,  first  played  1637-1638 ;  permission,  February 
8,  1639;  acheve  d'imprimer,  May  23,  1639;  Paris,  4°. 

SAUL,  tragedie,  first  played  1639-1640;  permission,  April  18,  1642; 
acheve  d'imprimer,  May  31,  1642;  Paris,  4°;  ibid.,  1705,  8°,  in 
the  first  volume  of  Theatre  fran$ois,  etc.;  Paris,  1737,  12°,  in  the 
third  volume  of  Theatre  fran$ois,  etc. 

ESTHER,  tragedie,  first  played  about  1642;  permission,  July  15,  1643; 
acheve  d'imprimer,  March  30,  1644;  Paris,  4°;  ibid.,  1737,  12°, 
in  the  third  volume  of  Theatre  fran$ois,  etc. 

SCEUOLE,  tragedie,  first  played  about  1644;  permission,  August  31, 
1646;  acheve  d'imprimer,  January  2,  1647;  Paris,  4°;  Leyden 
(Elzevirs),  1654,  12°;  Paris,  1688,  12°;  ibid.,  1705,  8°,  in  the 
second  volume  of  Theatre  frangois,  etc.;  Paris,  1718,  12°;  ibid., 
1737,  12°,  in  the  third  volume  of  Theatre  fran$ois,  etc.;  Geneva, 
1767,  8°,  in  the  fourth  volume  of  Thedtre  fran$ais,  etc.;  Paris, 
I773»  4°>  in  Marmontel's  edition  of  the  Chefs  d'ceuvre  du  Theatre 
fran$ais;  Paris,  1783,  8°,  in  Petite  Bibliotheque  des  theatres. 

BERENICE,  tragi-comedie,  first  played  about  1644;  Paris,  1645,  4°. 
(The  dates  of  the  permission  and  acheve  d'imprimer  are  not 
given.) 

THEMISTOCLE,  tragedie,  first  played  at  the  end  of  1646  or  the  beginning 
of  1647;  permission,  February  5,  1648;  acheve  d'imprimer, 
March  20,  1648;  Paris,  4°;  Leyden  (Elzevirs),  1649,  12°; 
Lyons,  1654,  8°;  Paris,  1705,  8°,  in  the  third  volume  of 
Thedtre  fran$ois,  etc.;  Paris,  1737,  12°,  in  the  third  volume  of 
Theatre  franQois ,  etc. 

NITOCRIS,  tragi-comedie,  first  played  about  1648 ;  permission,  November 
10,  1649;  acheve  d'imprimer,  January  28,  1650;  Paris,  4°; 
Leyden  (Elzevirs),  1650,  12°. 

DYNAMIS,  tragi-comedie,  first  played  about  1649;  permission,  August 
26,  1650;  acheve  d'imprimer,  December  28,  1652;  Paris,  4°. 

ANAXANDRE,  tragi-comedie,  written  in  1653;  probably  first  played 
1653-1654;  permission,  January  22,  1655;  acheve  d'imprimer, 
March  26,  1655;  Paris,  4°;  Amsterdam,  1658,  8°.r 

1  At  the  end  of  the  list  of  Du  Ryer's  plays  given  by  the  Mercure,  July  1 8, 1721 ,  we 
read  the  following:  "Alexandre,  Tragedie;  Tarquin,  tragedie;  les  Captifs,  comedie; 
Anaxandre,  sa  derniere  Piece;  Cleophon  et  Lucipe,  Tragedie;  Clitophon,  Tragedie;  ces 
deux  dernieres  Pieces  n'ont  pas  vu  le  jour.  "  Now  with  the  exception  of  Clitophon  and 
Anaxandre,  both  tragi-comedies,  none  of  these  plays  are  mentioned  by  Du  Ryer's 
contemporaries.  The  passage  is  vague  and  full  of  errors.  Cleophon  et  Lucipe  is 
evidently  the  same  as  Clitophon;  Alexandre  is  probably  intended  for  Anaxandre; 
Tarquin  for  Lucrece;  the  Captifs  for  the  translation  of  Plautus's  play  by  Rotrou. 


APPENDIX  B. 

DU  RYER'S  TRANSLATIONS. 

SALVIANUS,  Traitte  de  la  Prouidence  de  Dieu,  Paris,  1634,'  8°. 
CICERO  : 

Pour  le  Roy  Deiotarus  and  Pour  la  Paix,  in  Huit  Oraisons  de  Cice- 

ron,* Paris,  1638,  4°;  ibid.,  1639,  12°;  ibid.,  1641,  i2°;ibid., 

1644,  12°;  ibid.,  1648,  12°;  ibid.,  1653,  12°. 
Les  Philippines,  Paris,  1639,  3  4°;  ibid.,  1640,   12°;  ibid.,  1646, 

12°;  ibid.,  1647,  12°. 

Paradoxes,  before  October  8,  1641.  4 

Offices  ou  les  Deuoirs  de  la  vie  ciuile,  Paris,  1641,54°;  ibid., 

1646,  12°;  ibid.,  1663,  12°;  ibid.,  1666,  8°;  Lyons,  1687,  12°. 
Contre  L.   Catilina   (first  3   orations),   Paris,    1641,8   12°;  ibid., 

1652,  12°. 

Les  Tusculanes,  Paris,  1643,  6  12°;ibid.,  1655,  12°. 

Pour  A.  Cluentius  Auitus,  contre  P.  Seruilius  Rullus  (three  ora- 
tions), Pour  C.  Rabirius,  Pour  L.  Flaccus,  Pour  P.  Cornelius 
Sylla,  Pour  L.  Cornelius  Balbus,  Contre  L.  Calpurnius  Pison, 
pour  T.  Annius  Milon,  pour  C.  Rabirius  Postumus,  Au  Peuple, 
Pour  S.  Roscius  d'Amerie,  Pour  Q.  Roscius  comedien,  Pour 
M.  Fonteius,  Pour  A.  Cecinna,  Apr  es  son  retour  au  Senat, 
Pour  sa  maison,  Touchant  les  Deuins,  Pour  Plancius,  Paris, 
5  vols.,  12°. 


1  Privilege,  December  9,  1633. 

1  The  table  of  contents,  written  by  hand,  assigns  to  Du  Ryer  the  Deiotarus  and 
the  fourth  oration  against  Catiline,  to  Giry  the  Pour  la  Paix;  but  the  publisher  on 
page  196  states  that  the  latter  play  and  Deiotarus  are  by  the  same  translator,  while 
in  the  preface  to  Les  Oraisons  de  Ciceron  contre  L.  Catilina,  Paris,  1641,  he  says, 
"le  vous  auois  desia  donne"  la  quatriesme  Oraison  de  Ciceron  contre  Catilina  de  la 
traduction  de  Monsieur  Giry."  Moreover,  Pellisson  attributes  to  Du  Ryer  Deio- 
tarus, la  Paix,  and  only  three  Catilinaires.  It  is  evident  that  the  table  of  contents  is 
at  fault.  Cf.,  also,  Goujet,  Bibliotheque,  n,  227;  Chapelain,  letter  to  Balzac,  May 
10,  1638,  Lettres  (edition  of  Tamizey  de  Larroque)  I,  235.  The  date  of  this  letter 
shows  that  the  book  was  published  in  the  first  part  of  the  year.  In  a  letter  of  June  6, 
Chapelain  states  that,  of  the  four  authors  who  made  these  translations,  he  prefers 
d'Ablancourt  and  Patru,  op.  cit.,  I,  247. 

J  Privilege,  December  23,  1638. 

*  I  have  been  unable  to  find  any  edition  of  this  work  earlier  than  1670,  but  one 
must  have  appeared  before  1641,  for  Du  Ryer  states  in  the  preface,  reprinted  in  the 
edition  of  1670,  "  je  vous  donne  ce  petit  ouvrage  en  attendant  que  je  vous  en  donne  un 
plus  grand,  je  veux  dire  les  Offices  de  Ciceron.  "  Pellisson  in  1653  mentions  the 
Paradoxes  as  one  of  Du  Ryer's  translations;  cf.  Histoire  de  I'Academie  Fran^oise,  Paris, 

1653,  P.  555- 

s  Privilege,  September  30,  1640;  acheve  d'imprimer,  October  8,  1641  ;  title-page,  1646. 

6  Privilege,  September  30,  1640. 

?  The  permission  to  print  all  of  these  orations  and  the  four  immediately  following 
was  given  September  7,  1640. 

173 


174  APPENDIX  B 

CICERO — continued. 

Pour  P.  Sextius,  contre  Vatinius,  Pour  M.  Celius  Rufus,  Ton  chant 

les  prouinces  consulaires,  Paris,  1651,  12°. 
Du   meilleur  genre  d'orateurs   et   Voraison    pour  Murena,    Paris, 

1654,  12°. 

De  la  nature  des  Dieux,  Paris,  1657, 1  12°. 

All  these  translations  were  reprinted  in  (Euures  de  Ciceron  de  la 
traduction  de  Du  Ryer,  Paris,  1670,  12  vols.,  12°. 2 

ISOCRATES,  De  la  louange  de  Busire,3  Paris,  1640,  12°. 

STRADA,  Histoire  de  la  Guerre  de  Flandre,  Paris,  1644, 4f°  (first  decade), 
and  ibid.,  1649,  f°  (second  decade);  Paris,  1650  and  1651,  f° 
(first  decade),  and  ibid.,  1652,  f°  (second  decade) ;  Paris,  1652, 
8°  (two  decades  in  one  volume) ;  Paris,  1659,  f°  (first  decade) 
and  Paris,  1661,  f°  (second  decade) ;  Grenoble,  1663,  3  vols., 
12°;  Paris,  1665,  2  vols.,  8°;  ibid.,  1675,  4  vols.,  12°;  Antwerp, 
1705,  3  vols.,  12°;  Brussels,  1706,  3  vols.,  12°;  Paris,  1712, 
3  vols.,  12° s;  Brussels,  1/27,  4  vols.,6  12°;  ibid.,  1739,  4 
vols.,6  12°. 

ANTONIO,  PRIOR  OF  CRATO,  Les  Pseaumes  de  D.  Antoine  roy  de  Portugal, 
Paris,  1645,  12° 7;  Paris,  1657,  12°;  Paris,  1667,  12°. 

HERODOTUS,  Les  Histoires,  Paris,  1645, 8  f°:  ibid.,  1658,  f°;  ibid.,  1660, 
2  vols.,  12°;  ibid.,  1665,  3  vols.,  12° s;  ibid.,  1677,  3  vols.,  8°; 
ibid.,  1713,  3  vols.,  12°;  ibid.,  1733,  3  vols.,  8°.s 

FREINSHEIM,  Supplement  a  Quinte  Curce,  Paris,  1647 9,  4°;  ibid.,  1653, 
4°;  ibid.,  1655,5  4°;  ibid.,  1659,  4°;  Amsterdam,  1665,  8°; 
Paris,  1668,  12°;  ibid.,  1681,  12°;  Amsterdam,  1684,  8°; 
ibid.,  1696,  8°;  The  Hague,  1727,  2  vols.,  12°;  Berlin,  I74610; 
Amsterdam,  1747,  2  vols.,  12°. 

1  Privilege,  September  30,  1640. 

a  This  work  includes  reprints  of  seven  other  translations,  falsely  attributed  to  Du 
Ryer  by  the  publishers.  They  are  La  Rhetorique  de  Ciceron,  Paris,  1652,  by  le  sieur 
lacob;  Les  Epistres  familieres  de  Ciceron,  Paris,  1663,  by  I.  Godouin;  Lettres  de 
Brutus  et  de  Ciceron,  Paris,  1663,  by  Antoine  Soreau;  La  Consolation  de  Ciceron  sur 
la  mart  de  safille  Tullia,  Paris,  1644,  by  E.  B.;  Dialogue  de  la  Vieillesse  et  de  VAmitie, 
Paris,  1651,  by  Claveret;  Des  Orateurs  illustres,  Paris,  1652,  by  L.  Giry;  Le  Songe  de 
Scipion,  published  in  Petites  traductions  nouuelks,  Paris,  1661,  by  Is.  M.  Since  1670, 
Du  Ryer's  biographers  have  assumed  that  he  was  the  author  of  these  translations. 
Cf.,  for  instance,  Goujet,  Bibliotheque,  i,  329,  and  Philipp,  Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben,  14. 

3  This  work,  published  anonymously  with  Giry's  translation  of  the  Louange 
d'Helene,  is  attributed  to  Du  Ryer  by  Pellisson,  Histoire  de  I' A  cademie  Fran$oise,  Paris, 
J653,  p.  555,  and  Goujet,  op.  cit.,  n,  205.  Privilege,  October  27,  1639. 

4  Privilege,  January  31,  1642. 

5  Cf.  Graesse,  Tresor  de  litres  rares,  Dresden,  1859-1869. 

6  The  title  is  changed  to  Histoire  de  la  guerre  des  Pays-Bas. 

1  This  edition  is  mentioned  by  d'Olivet  and  Moreri.  There  must  have  been  an 
edition  earlier  than  1657,  as  the  work  is  referred  to  by  Pellisson,  loc.  cit.  Silva, 
Diccionario  bibliographico  Portuguez,  Lisbon,  1867,  vin,  p.  73,  mentions  an  edition 
printed  "suivant  la  copie  imprimee  £  Paris  (Hollanda  por  1646)  16°. " 

1  Privilege,  February  20,  1643. 

» The  translation  of  Quintus  Curtius  is  by  Vaugelas,  that  of  the  supplement  by 
Du  Ryer.  The  privilege  is  June  25,  1646.  This  first  edition  is  mentioned  by  d'Olivet 
and  MoreYi.  10  Cf.  Brunet  for  this  edition. 


APPENDIX  B 


175 


SENECA : 

Suitte  des  Epistres,1  Paris,  1647,  12°;  ibid.,  1648,  4°;  ibid.,  1654, 

12°. 

Consolations,  Paris,  1650,  12°;  ibid.,  1660,  12°. 
De  la  Colere,  Paris,  1651,  12°;  Rouen,  1661,  12°. 
De  la  Clemence,  Paris,  1651,  12°;  1659,  12°. 
De  la  Prouidence  de  Dieu,  Paris,  1651,  12°;  ibid.,  1658,  12°. 
Du  Repos  et  de  la  tranguillit6  de  I'ame,  de  la  Constance  du  sage,  et  de 

la  briefuete  de  la  vie,  Paris,  1651,  12°;  ibid.,  1657,  12°. 
Des  Questions  naturelles,  Paris,  1651,  2  vols.,  12°;  ibid.,  1659,  12°. 
All  these  translations  of  Seneca  were  republished  together  with 
those  by  Malherbe  as  (Euures  de  Seneque,  Paris,  1658, 1659, 3  2 
vols.,  f°;  Lyons,  1663,  10  vols.,  12°;  Paris,  1669,  14  vols.,  12°. 
SULPICIUS  SEVERUS,  La  vie  de  Saint  Martin,  Paris,  1650,  12°. 3 
LIVY,  Les  Decades  auec  les  supplements  de  I.  Freinshemius,  Paris,  1653, 4 
2  vols.,  t°;  ibid.,  1669,  14  vols.,  12°;  Amsterdam,  1696,5  8  vols., 
I2°;ibid.,  1700,  8  vols.,6  12°;  Rouen,  1722,  8  vols.,  12°. 
POLYBIUS,  Les  Histoires,  Paris,  1655,7  f°;  ibid.,  1669,  1670,  3  vols.,  12°. 
OVID,  Les  Metamorphoses,  Paris,  1655,  2  vols.,  4°;8  ibid.,  1660,  f°; 
ibid.,  1666,  8°;  Paris,  1676,  3  vols.,  8°s;  Brussels,  1677,  f°; 
Paris,   1680,  3  vols.,  8°s;  Amsterdam,  1693,  3  vols.,  I2°s; 
ibid.,  1702,  f°;  Paris,  1704,  3  vols.,  12° s;  The  Hague,  1728, 
2  vols.,  12°;  ibid.,  idem,  f°5;  ibid.,  1744,  4  vols.,  8°. 
DE  THOU,  Histoire  (first  fifty-seven  books),  Paris.  1658,  i659,93  vols.,f°. 

1  Malherbe  had  translated  letters  I-XCI ;  Dtt  Ryer  completed  the  collection  with 
letters  XCII-CXXIV. 

2  Goujet,  Bibliotheque,  n,  244,  dates  this  edition  1656. 

3  Privilege,  November  17, 1649.  *  Privilege,  September  10,  1646. 

*  Cf .  Graesse,  Tresor.  6  Also  bound  in  5  volumes.  *  Privilege,  June  14. 

*  Cf.  Goujet,  op.  cit.,  VI,  46,  and  Graesse,  op.  cit.      »  Privilege,  January  19,  1654. 


INDEX.1 


Ablancourt,  d',  17,  19,  28,  173  n. 

Agimee,  II. 

Aiguillon,  duchesse  d',  14,  89. 

Alcibiade,   131. 

Alcimedon,  13, 14,  26, 35, 43,  57,  58  n.,  62, 

63-68,  155,  157,  158,  159,  160, 

161, 161  n.,  162,  164,  167  n.,  171. 

Alcionee,  12  n.,    14,  26,  55,  83,  89-96, 

107  n.,  116,126,  140,  154,  155, 

156,  I.S7,  158,  159,  160,  161  n., 

162,  163  n.,  166,  168  n.,  169,  171. 
Alcoran,  i  n. 
Alexandre,  172  n. 
Alexandre  Hardy;   see  Hardy. 
Aman  (by  Matthieu),  107. 
A  man  (by  Montchrestien),  107. 
Aman  (by  Rivaudeau) ,  107. 
Amarillis,  57-62,  68,  71,  155,  157,  158, 

159, 160  n.,  161, 161  n.,  162, 167, 

167  n,,  168,  171. 
Amour  tyrannique,  117. 
Amours  d'Astree  et  de  Celadon,  n. 
Anaxandre,  133,   148-152,   153  n.,  155, 

158,  161,  161  n.,  164,  172,  172  n. 
Anceaume,  12. 
Andreini,  Isabella,  3. 
Andromaque,  90,  131,  169. 
Anecdotes    dramatiques,     96,     116;    see 

Clement. 

Anne  d'Autriche,  12,  91. 
Antiquities  of  the  Jews;    see  Josephus. 
Antoine,  roy  de  Portugal;    see  Antonio 

of  Crato. 

Antonio  of  Crato,  14,  29,  174. 
Archives    de    I' Academic    Nationale    de 

Musique,  53  n. 
Aretaphile,  4,  5,  26,  33,  34,  35-40, 45,  54, 

63.  76,  157.  15711.,  158,  158  n., 

160  n.,  161,   161  n.,  162,   164, 

167  n.,  171. 

Argenis  (by  Barclay) ;  see  Barclay. 
Argents  (by  Du  Ryer),  i  n.,  9  n.,  1 1  n.,  12, 

25,  33.  34.  44-50,   53,  54.  55. 

58  n.,  137,   154  n.,   155,  157, 

157  n-.  158,  160  n.,  161  n.,  164, 

167,  171. 
Argenis  et  Foliar que,  8,  9  n.,  12,  33,  34, 

34  n.,  44-50,  156  n.,  157,  158, 

161,  161    n.,  162,  164,   167   n., 

168, 171. 
Argenis  y  Poliarco,  49. 


Aristotle,  102. 

Armstrong,  iv. 

Aslrate.  117. 

Astree,  62,  70,  72,  73,  75,  76,  78  n.,  148, 

149. 

A  this  et  Porphirias,  77. 
Aubignac,  d',  25,  83,  88,  89,  107,  1 16. 
Audiguier,  d',  50,  155. 
Auvray,  n,  12. 
Avantures  de  Rosileon,  62. 
Axiane,  134. 

Baillet,  19,  22,  25,  29,  107. 

Balzac,  Guez  de,  28,  173  n. 

Barclay,  26,  44,  45,  48,  49,  155. 

Baron,  116,  117. 

Bassin,  n  n.,  12. 

Baudouin,  19. 

Baulot,  115. 

Bayle,  4,  22,  29,  29  n. 

Beauchamps,  de,  2,  4,  6,  34. 

Beau-Soleil.  116. 

Beauval,  117. 

Bellanger,  30,  30  n. 

Bellefleur,  116. 

Bellegarde,  de,  3. 

Bellerpse,  15,  116. 

Berenice  (by  Thomas  Corneille),  134. 

Berenice  (by  DuRyer),  26,  30  n.,  74  n.t 

133-140, 154, 155, 156, 158,  159, 

i6on.,  161, 161  n.,  163  n.,  167  n., 

168,  169,  172. 

Berenice  (by  Racine),  30  n.,  83,  134 
Berenice  (by  Segrais),  134. 
Bernardin,  108,  ill  n.,  114. 
Bible,  96,  97,  99,  102,  103,  104,  106,  107, 

108,  109,  109  n.,  no,  in,  112, 

112  n.,  113,  114,  155- 
Bibliotheque  (by  Maupoint);    see  Mau- 

point. 
Bibliotheque    des    Recueils    collectifs    de 

Poesies;  see  Lachevre. 
Bibliotheque  du  Theatre  jranqois;  see  La 

Valliere. 

Bi  bliolheque  franc,  oise,  131  n. 
Bibliotheque  franqoise  (by  Goujet) ;    see 

Goujet. 
Bibliotheque    Frangoise    (by   Sorel);    see 

Sorel. 

Bibliotheque  poetique,  25,  96,  117,  126. 
Bibliotheque  uniterselle  des  Dames,  64  n. 


•This  Index  contains  the  names  of  all  books  and  persons  mentioned  in  the 
volume  except  those  of  characters  in  the  plays  and  their  sources. 

177 


INDEX 


Bilaine,  18,  19. 
Billard,  103,  104. 
Blandimare,  116. 
Bocages,  n. 
Boccaccio,  77,  78. 
Boileau,  29. 
Bonnaire,  de,  22. 
Bonnefon,  Paul,  iv. 
Bonnet,  12. 
Boyer,  97. 
Bradamante,  163. 
Brillon,  24. 
Brisset,  58,  59. 
Britannicus,  90. 
Brunet,  17  n.,  77  n.,  174  n. 
Bruyeres,  Voille  de,  12. 
Buckingham,  91. 

Cabinet  d'Hozier,  I  n. 

Calderon,  49,  49  n. 

Campistron,  iv,  131,  169. 

Captifs,  172  n. 

Carani,  64  n. 

Casaubon,  30. 

Cassagne,  17  n. 

Celimene,  57  n. 

ChammSte,  117. 

Chapelain,  28,  173  n. 

Chappuzeau,  116. 

Charles  IX,  5. 

Charpentier,  19. 

Chefs  d'ceuvre    dramatiques ;     see    Mar- 

montel. 

Chevreau,  77,  83,  86. 
Christina,   15,  89. 
Cicero,  13,  18,  19,  20,  21,  22,  27,  27  n.,  28, 

29,  29  n.,  30,  173,  173  n.,  174, 

174  n. 

Cid,  46,  72,  73  n.,  77,  94,  95,  96,  158,  169. 
Cinna,  123,  140,  143. 
Cinq-Mars,  91. 
Clarigene,  14,57,77-82,  133  n.,  138,  139. 

154  «-.  155,  156,  158,  159.  161, 

161  n.,  162,  163  n.,    164,  165, 

166  n.,  167  n.,  168  n.,  172. 
Claveret,  29,  29  n.,  174  n. 
Clemence,  de  la,  175. 

Clement,  20,  25,  115. 

Ckomedon,  13,  14,  57,  62,  63,  72-77,  91, 
137,  148,  149,  149  n.,  155,  156, 
156  n.,  157,  158,  158  n.,  160  n., 
161  n.,  163  n.,  166,  167  n.,  168. 
171. 

Cleopatre,  72. 

Cleophon  et  Lucipe,  172  n. 

Clitandre,  Examen  de,  166  n. 

CUtophon,  26,  33,  34,  35,  40-44,  45,  54, 
62,  68,  155,  156  n.,  157,  158, 
158  n.,  160, 161, 161  n.,  162, 163, 

167  n.,  168,  171,  172  n. 
CUtophon  and  Leucippe,  40,  64  n. 
CoUre,  dela,  175. 

Colletet,  Francois,  iii,  24,  25  n. 
Colletet,  Guillaume,  12,  12  n.,  25  n.,  63, 

64  n.,  90  n. 
Comedie  Fran$aisc;   see  Joannides. 


Conrart,  20. 

Consolation  de  Ciceron,  174  n. 

Consolations,  175. 

Contemporains  de  Moliere,  90  n. 

Corneille,  Pierre,  iii,  iv  n.,  9,  11,  12,  12  n., 
16,  24,  25, 26,  34n.,  46,  54,  74n., 
76, 81 , 83, 90, 92, 93, 96, 97, 1 15, 
116, 117, 123, 126, 131,  139,  155, 
157,  162,  166,  169,  170. 

Corneille,  Thomas,  134,  134  n.,  138  n. 

Correspondence  litteraire,  115  n. 

Cotin,  44. 

Courb6,  14,  18,  19,  28. 

Curtius,  Quintus,  13  n.,  27,  31, 174, 174  n. 

Dancourt,  68. 

Decameron,  77. 

Decades,   see  Livy. 

Deniaise,  126  n. 

Deuotions,  12. 

Dialogue  de  la  Digue  et  de  la  Rochelle,  8, 

8n.,  9. 
Dialogue  de  la  Vieillesse  et  de  I'amitie, 

29  n.,  174  n. 
Diccionario       bibliographico    Portuguez, 

174  n. 

Dictionnaire  (by  Richelet) ;  see  Richelet. 
Dictionnaire  critique;  see  Jal. 
Dictio'.tnaire  des  Pretieuses,  44  n. 
Dictionnaire  historique;   see  Bayle. 
Dictionnaire    historique,    le    grand;     see 

More"ri. 

Dictionnaire  turc-latin,  I  n. 
Dieromene,  58. 
Diodorus  Siculus,  126,  130. 
Dion  Cassius,  144. 
Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  117. 
Distichon,  8. 
Du  Betlay,  25. 
Du  Mas,  15. 
Du  Rycr,  Andre1,  I. 
Du  Ryer,  Ayme"e,  22. 
Du  Ryer,  Claude,  i,  i  n. 
Du  Ryer,  Elisabeth,  13,  17. 
Du  Ryer  (?),  Frangoise,  3,  4. 
DuRyer,  Isaac,  I,  I  n..  2,3,4,6,6  n.,  7,8. 
Du  Ryer,  Jacque,  I. 
Du  Ryer,  la,  i. 
Du  Ryer,  Lucrece,  13. 
Du  Ryer,  Magdelaine,  I. 
Du  Ryer,  Marie-Ayme'e,  22. 
Du  Ryer,  Marthe,  13,  17. 
Du  Ryer,  Pierre,  iii,  iv,  I,  2,  etc. 
Du  Ryer.  Pierre  (son  of  preceding),  13. 
Du  Ryer,  Pierre,  de  Tillemont,  i,  6  n. 
Due  d'Ossonne,  24  n.,  34  n. 
Duclos,  116,  117. 
Dufresne,  116. 
Dynamis,  133,   133  n.,  144-148,  153  n., 

I54n.,  156,  159, 160,  161, 161  n., 

162,  163  n.,  172. 

Eclogue,  64. 
EcoU  des  Maris,  71. 
Elliott,  A.  M.,  iv. 
Elzevirs,  116,  140,  172. 


INDEX 


179 


Ephemerides;  see  Romuald. 

Epistolae  familiares,  22  n.,  27,  174  n. 

Erotici  Scriptores,  40  n. 

Escalopier,  29. 

Espagne,  d',  20. 

Essais  de  lettres  familieres ,  17. 

Esther  (by  Du  Ryer),  83,  106-115,  124, 

J54.  156,  157.  i6on.,  161  n.,  162, 

163  n.,  169,  172. 
Esther  (by  Matthieu),  107. 
Esther  (by  Racine),  107-109,  169. 
Estre"es,  Jean  d',  22  n. 
Estre"es,  mare"chal  d',  34. 
Eumathius,  26,  63,  64  n.,  155. 
Exposition  universette  de  1878,  53. 

Faguet,  97. 

Fanuche,  6. 

Faret,  16. 

Fermin-Didot,  64  n. 

Fills  de  Scire,  62  n. 

Filleul,  83. 

Flores,  Juan  de,  78  n. 

Folies  de  Cardenio,  74  n. 

Foucquet,  23. 

Foulard,  132. 

Fournel,  90  n. 

Fournier,  Edouard,  iii,  iv,  2,  2  n.,  4,  5, 

19,  20, 23, 40 n.,  62, 62  n.,  63, 68, 

89,  96,  117,  171. 
Fournier,  Genevieve,  13. 
Freinsheim,  23,  27,  174,  175. 
French  Tragi-Comedy,  35  n.,  40  n. 
Furetiere,  17  n.,  19. 

Galerie  du  Palais,  54. 

Gamier,  54,  163. 

Gaulminus,  63,  64  n. 

Genereuse  Allemande,  n,  44  n. 

Gesippe,  77,  80. 

Gesta  Romanorum,  77. 

Gillet  de  la  Tessonnerie,  126  n. 

Giry,  15, 19,  28, 173  n.,  174  n. 

Godouin,  174  n. 

Gombaud,  170. 

Gonzaga,  91. 

Goujet,3  n.,  6,   n  n.,    12  n.,  27  n.,  29, 

30,  173  n.,  174  n.,  175  n. 
Gourdon  de  Bach,  131. 
Graesse,  27  n.,  174  n.,  175  n. 
Grand  Cyrus,  134. 
Gros  Guillaume;  see  Gu6rin. 
Grotto,  58,  59,  61,  62,  155. 
Gueret,  28. 
Gue'rin  (Gros  Guillaume),  51,  52  n.,  71, 

167. 

Guerre  des  Autheurs,  29  n. 
Gulistan,  i  n. 
Guyot  et  Merlin,  4  n.,  5  n.,  6  n.,  7  n. 

Hardy,  iii,  3,  12,  20  n.,  41  n.,  44  n.,  53  n., 
62  n.,  77,  77  n.,78,  80,  117,  161, 
170. 

He'mon,  20  n.,  25  n. 

Henri  III,  5. 

Henri  IV,  3. 


Heraclius,  126,  126  n. 

Hercher,  64  n. 

Hercule  mourant,  72. 

Herodotus  22,  23, 27,  29, 30, 31, 140, 174. 

Hester,  la  belle,  107,  107  n. 

Heures  derobees,  2,  3  n.,  7. 

Hexameron  rustique;    see  La  Mothe  le 

Vayer. 

Hilberg,  64  n. 

Histoire  (by  de  Thou) ;  see  de  Thou. 
Histoire    de    I' Academic   franchise    (by 

Pellisson  et  d'Olivet),  2  n.,  6  n., 

13  n,,  16  n.,  22  n.,  24  n.,  26  n., 

148  n. 
Histoire    de    I' Academic    Franfoise    (by 

Pellisson);    see  Pellisson. 
Histoire  de  la  Guerre  de  Flandre;    see 

Strada. 
Hisioire  de  la  guerre  des  Pays-Bas;    see 

Strada. 
Hisioire  de  la  langue  et  de  la  literature 

franfaise;    see  Petit  de  Julle- 

ville. 
Histoire  de  la  traduction  en  France  ;  see 

Bellanger. 
Histoire  des  amours  de  Lysandre  et  de 

Caliste,  50. 

Histoire  du  theatre  franf ois;  see  Parfaict. 
Histoire  tragi-comique  de  noire  temps,  50. 
Histoires  (by  Herodotus) ;  see  Herodotus. 
Histoires  (by  Polybius) ;   see  Polybius. 
Historiettes;  see  Tallemant. 
Hodey,  3,  3  n.,  12. 
Hoffman,  30. 
Homer,  10. 
Horace,  83. 
Hozier,  I  n. 
Hysmines  et  Hysminiae  Amoribus,  de,  63, 

64  n. 

lacob,  174  n. 

Isabelle,  12. 

Isabelle  comedienne,  A ,  3  n. 

Isnard,  62. 

Isocrates,  27,  174. 

Jal,  iii,  I  n.,  4,  4  n.,  5  n.,  13  n.,  16  n.,  17, 

22,  23,  23  n. 
Jardin  des  Muses,  2. 
Joannides,  115  n. 
Josephus,  104,  112  n. 
Jugemens  des  S$avans;  see  Baillet. 
Jugement  d' Amour,  78  n. 

La  Charnays,  n. 

La  Chastre,  9,  12. 

La  Chastre,  Louise  Henriette  de,  12. 

Lachevre,  2  n.,  3  n.,  12  n. 

La  Grange,  115  n. 

La  Mothe  le  Vayer,  29  n. 

Lancaster,  35  n.,  40  n.,  41  n. 

Lanspn,  iv,  34  n. 

La  Pineliere,  24. 

La  Porte;  see  Cle'ment. 

La  Rochefoucauld,  89,  129,  140,  169. 

La  Taille,  97,  103,  104,  106. 


i8o 


INDEX 


La  Valliere,  iv,  4,  34,  117. 

Le  Bossu,  28. 

Le  Grand,  116. 

Lekain,  116. 

Le  Moine,  28. 

Le  quint,  6. 

L6ris,  4. 

Lettres  de  Brutus  et  de  Ciceron,  174  n. 

Lettres  de  Chapelain;  see  Chapelain. 

Lexicon  Bibliographicum;    see  Hoffman. 

Ligdamon  et  Lidias,  n. 

Lisandre  et  Caliste,  2,  8,  10,  12,  33,  34, 

50-54,  55,  58,  71,73-  155, 156n., 

157,  158,   158  n.,  161,  161  n., 

163,  167,  167  n.,  171. 
Livet,  2, 6  n.,  22  n.,  23,  24  n.,  26  n.,  44  n. 
Livy,  15,  18,  19,  27,  28,  29,  83,  85,  86,  87, 

88,  89  n.,  117,  148  n.,  155.  I7S- 
Longuet,  12. 
Longueville,  due  de,  12. 
Longueville,  duchesse  de   (first   wife  of 

preceding,  12. 
Longueville,  duchesse  de  (second  wife  of 

the  preceding  Duke),  89. 
Loret,  i  n.,  23,  24. 
Louange  de  Bustre,  174. 
Louange  d'Helene,  174  n. 
Louis  XIII,  3,  9,  61,  72  n. 
Louveau,  64  n. 
Lucrece,  14,82,  83-89,  95,  105,  154,  155, 

156,  157,  158,  159,  160,  161  n., 

162, 163, 167  n.,  i68n.,  169, 171, 

172  n. 

Madonte,  II. 

Mahelot,  I  n.,  26,  33,  39,  40,  43,  45,  49, 

53.  58,  58  n.,  63,  67,  68,  69,  77, 

90,  107,  115,  118,  126  n.,  163. 
Mairet,  iii,  i6n.,  24,  25,  34  n.,  74  n.,  169. 
Malherbe,  25,  175,  175  n. 
Mareschal,  n,  44  n. 
Manage  d' Amour,  2,  3,  7. 
Marianne,  2$,  72,  90,  115. 
Marie  de  M6dicis,  3. 
Marmontel,  22,  25,  90,  116,  117,  119  n., 

123  n.,  124  n.,  126,  172. 
Martin,  Saint,  27,  175. 
Marolles,  17. 
Marot,  25. 

Marsan,  2  n.,  n  n.,  34  n.,  58,  59. 
Marty-Laveaux,  54  n. 
Matthieu,  107. 
Maudit,  12. 
Maupoint,  90  n. 
Meilleur  genre  d'orateurs,  174. 
Melanges  d'histoire  et  de  litterature;  see 

Vigneul-Marville. 
Melite,  74  n. 
Memoire;  see  Mahelot. 
Memoires  pour  servir;  see  Niceron. 
Manage,  13,  15,  16,  17,  25,  29,  77  n.,  90, 

90  n.,  116. 

Menagiana;  see  Manage. 
Mercosur,  14,  77. 

Mercure,  115,  116,  117,  131,  172  n. 
Merlin;   see  Guyot. 


Mesnard,  107,  107  n.,  108,  108  n.,  in  n.t 

J3I- 

Metamorphoses,  27,  175. 

Metastasio,  132,  132  n.,  169. 

Ministere  de  I'inslruction  publique,  Cata- 
logue du,  53  n. 

Mister e  du  Viel  Testament.  104. 

Mocedades,  46. 

Modern  Language  Notes,  3  n.,  41  n. 

Moland;   see  Voltaire. 

Moliere,  ivn.,  26,  47,  70,  90,  90  n.,  115, 
116,  169 

Mondory,  90. 

Montchrestien,  107. 

Morei,  132. 

More>i,  4,  23  n.,  174  n. 

Mart  de  Cesar,  72,  119  n. 

Mortde  Crispe,  115. 

Motin,  12. 

Mouhy,  117. 

Mulierum  Virtutibus,  de,  35. 

Muze  historique;  see  Loret. 

Nadal,  103,  104,  169. 

Narcisse,  12. 

Natura  Deorum,  29,  174. 

Nepos,  126,  132  n. 

Neptun'.  a  la  Rochelle,  9. 

Niceron,  4,  5,  6,  29,  91. 

Nitocns,  133,  140-144,  154,  154  n.,  155, 

158, 160, 161, 161  n.,  162,  i63n., 

167  n.,  172. 
Notice  biographique  sur  Jean  Rotrou;  see 

Brillon. 
Nouuelle  allegorique,  19. 

Observations  sur  le  Cid,  72  n. 

Odyssey,  40. 

CEdipe,  119  n. 

(Euvres  meslees;  see  Saint-Evremond. 

Offices,  173,  173  n. 

Olivet,  d',  6,  7,  22,  26,  29   174  n. 

Orateurs  illustres,  174  n. 

Orations  of  Cicero;   see  Cicero. 

Orleans,  due  d',  26,  35. 

Origines  de  la  prononciation  modernt,  i  n. 

Ouverture  des  jours  gras,  62  n.,  63. 

Ovid,  27,  29,  175. 

Pandoste,  134  n. 

Paradoxes,  173,  173  n. 

Parfaict,   les  freres,  iii,  2,  4,  6,  23,  57, 

96  n.,  104,  117,  126  n.,  131. 
Parnasse;  see  La  Pineliere. 
Parnasse    franqois,    96;     see    Titon    du 

Tillet. 

Parnasse  reforme,  28,  29. 
i   Pascal,  29. 
i   Passart,  6. 

Pastorale  dramatique,  2  n.,  II  n.,  58  n. 
Patri  suo,  2,  8. 
Patru,  20,  173  n. 
Pelerine  amoureuse,  47  n. 
Pellisson,  iii,  13,  13  n.,  22  n.,  57,  58,  148, 

173  n.,  174  n. 


INDEX 


181 


Pentimcnlo  amoroso,  58,  59,  59  n.,  61  n 

68. 

Perfidie  d'Aman,  97  n.,  107. 
Petit  de  Julleville,  53  n.,  57  n.,  168  n. 
Petite  Bibliotheque  des  theatres,  172. 
Petites  traductions  notiuelles,  174  n. 
Philipp,  iii,  2,  2  n.,  23,  62,  77,  90,  90  n., 

95  n.,  104,  109,  116  n.,  119  n., 

131,  134  n.,  171  n.,  174  n. 
Pichou,  12,  62,  63,  74  n. 
Pieces  originates,  i  n.,  4  n.,  6  n. 
Pierre  Du  Ryers  Leben  und  Dramatische 

Werke;  see  Philipp. 

Piso,  L.  Calpurnius,  30,  31;  see  Cicero. 
Plautus,  172  n. 

Plutarch,  26,  35,  37,  38,  39,  44,  126,  155. 
Poisson,  1 1 6. 
Polybius,  27,  28,  29,  175. 
Polyeucte,  26,  42. 
Poncet,  ii  n.,  12. 

Pratique  du  theatre;  see  d'Aubignac;  90. 
Precieuses  ridicules,  26,  90,  152  n. 
Prononciation  frangaise,  I  n. 
Prosopopee  de  la  Digue,  9. 
Prosopopee  de  la  Rochette,  9. 
Prouidence  de  Dieu,  175. 
Pseaumes  de  D.  Antoine  27,  174. 
Puget  de  la  Serre,  134. 
Pyrame,  134  n. 

Que"rard,  27  n. 
Questions  naturelles,  175. 
Quinault,  117. 
Quinet,  57. 

Racine,  iv  n.,  30  n.,  83,  92,  96,  97,  107, 
107  n.,  108,  108  n.,  109,  in  n., 
114,  131  n.,  132  n.,  169. 

Rambpuillet,  Mme  de,  70  n. 

Rayssiguier,  n,  12. 

Reeherches;  see  de  Beauchamps. 

Recueil  des  Harangues,  22  n. 

Registre;  see  La  Grange. 

Registres  de  /' Academic  fran$aise,  22  n. 

Re"gnier,  25. 

Religieux  a  ceux  du  monde,  10. 

Repertoire  des  comedies  frangoises,  25,  115. 

Repos,  tranquillity  de  lame,  etc.,  175. 

Revue  d'histoire  litteraire  de  la  France, 
34  n. 

Reynier,  78  n.,  138  n.,  168. 

Rhetorique,  I74.n. 

Richelet,  17,  27. 

Richelieu,  9,  13,  14,  15,  89. 

Rigal,  53  n.,  62,  77  n. 

Rivaudeau,  107. 

Roman  sentimental,  78  n. 

Romuald,  23  n.,  28. 

Rosset,  I  n. 

Rossyleon,  62,  63,  72,  171. 

Rotrou,  iii,  20,  24,  24  n.,  25,  25  n.,  29, 
34  n.,  47  n.,  57  n.,  97,  115,  169, 
172  n. 

Royall  Psalmes,  27  n. 

Rudimenta  grammntices  hnguce  turcicce, 
I  n 


Sac  de  Carthage,  134  n. 

Sainte  Caterine,  134  n. 

Saint-Evremond,  25,  90,  116. 

Sainte-Marthe,  12. 

Saint-Gelais,  25. 

Saint  George,  27  n.,  34  n. 

Salvianus,  5  n.,  14,  26,  173. 

Saul  (by  Nadal);  sec-  Nadal. 

Saul  (by  Du  Ryer),  iv,  26, 83, 95,  96-106, 
153  n.,  154, 155, 156,  156  n.,  157, 
158,  159.  160,  161,  161  n.,  162, 
163  n.,  165,  166  n.,  169,  172. 

Saulfurieux,  97,  104. 

Scaliger,  90. 

Sceuole,  15,  16  n.,  22  n.,  25,  26,  83,  89, 
90  n.,  96,  115-126,  127,  133, 
154.  154  n.,  155,  155  n.,  156, 
157.  158,  159,  160,  161  n.,  162, 
163,  163  n.,  166,  169,  172. 

Scude'ry,  Georges  de,  1 1,  24,  25, 34  n.,  72, 
117,  119  n.,  134,  169. 

Scude'ry,  Mile  de,  134,  134  n. 

Seneca,  17,  19,  23,  27,  28,  28  n.,  29,  54, 
161,  168,  175. 

Sidonie,  16  n.,  24  n. 

Silva,  174  n. 

Saeur  valeureuse,  n. 

Soleinne,  Catalogue  de,  12  n.,  90  n. 

Sommaville,  14,  16,  28. 

Songe  de  Scipion,  174  n. 

Songes  des  hommes  esveillez,  i  n. 

Sophonisbe,  25,  72,  90. 

Soreau,  174  n. 

Sorel,  iii,  24,  28,  29. 

Soulie',  115  n. 

Stances  a  Damon,  10. 

Stances  d  I'Eglise,  10,  1 1  n. 

Stiefel,  16  n.,  34  n. 

Stilicon,  90. 

Strada,  27,  28,  174. 

Suitle  des  Epistres,  175. 

Sulpicius,  15.  20,  21,  22. 

Sulpicius  Severus,  15,  27,  175. 

Supercheries;  see  QueYard. 

Supplement  d  Quinte  Curce;  see  Frein- 
sheim. 

Supplements  de  G.  Freinshemius;  see 
Freinsheim. 

Syltie,  34  n.,  74  n. 

Tallemant  des  Re"aux,  i,  15,  27. 

Tamizey  de  Larroque,  28  n,  173  n. 

Tarquin,  172  n. 

Tatius,  26,  40,  155. 

Temistocle  (by  Morei),  132. 

Temps  perdu,  I  n.,  2,  2  n.,  3  D.,  8. 

Theagene  el  Cariclee,  44  n. 

Theatre  franfais  (Geneva,  1767),  172. 

Theatre  Franfois;  see  Chappuzeau. 

Theatre  franfais  au  seiziime  et  au  dix- 

septieme  siecle,  iii  n.,  2  n.,  4  n., 

19  n.,  62  n.,  68, 96  n.,  1 170.,  171. 
Theatre  jranfois  ou  Recueil  (Paris,  1705), 

171,  172. 
Theatre  frartfois  ou  Recueil  (Paris,  1737) 

171.  172. 


1 82 


INDEX 


Thcmistocle  (by  Du  Ryer),  55,  83,  126- 
132,  140,  154,  154  n.,  156,  157, 
158,  160,  160  n.,  161  n.,  162, 
163  n.,  166,  169,  172. 

Themistocle  (by  Foulard),  132. 

Themistocles  (by  Plutarch),  126  n. 

Theocrine;  see  Argenis  et  Poliarque. 

Th^ophile,  29,  170. 

Thomas  Corneille,  138  n. 

Thomas  Morns,  134  n. 

Thou,  de,  5  n.,  22,  23,  27,  28  n.,  29,  29  n., 

175- 

Thurot,  I  n. 
Tillieres,  14,  27. 

Titon  du  Tillet,  6,  25,  34,  89,  115,  117. 
Torilliere,  117. 

Tragcdie  franfaise  au  seizieme  siecle,  97. 
TraitS  des  droits,fonctions,  etc.;  see  Guyot. 
Traitt6  de  la  Prouidence  de  Dieu,  i  n.,  2, 

26,  173. 

Tresor  de  livres  rares;  see  Graesse. 
Tristan,  iii,  3,  3  n.,  24,  25,  57  n.,  i  I5,'i69. 
Trompeur  puny,  1 1 . 
Tullia,  21. 
Tusculanes,  13,  173. 
Two  Lost  Plays  by  Alexandre  Hardy,  41  n. 

Urfe,  d',  155- 

ValencS,  de,  9^. 
Valerius  Maximus,  29  n. 
Varietes  historiques,  40  n.,  62  n. 


Vasthi,  107. 

Vaugelas,  13,  17,  19,  29,  31,  174  n. 

Venceslas,  25,  90,  115. 

Vendanges  de  Suresne,  iii,  14,  55,  57,  62, 
63,  67,  68-72,  154,  155,  156  n., 
157. 158, 159, 161, 161  n.,  163  n., 
164,  166,  167,  168,  169,  171. 

Venddme,  C^sar  de,  6,  7,  13,  14,  15,  63, 
68,  72,  77- 

Venddme,  Mile  de,  83. 

Vengeance  des  satyres,  2,  6  n. 

Vergil,  10,  64. 

Veuve,  ii. 

Vie  de  Saint  Martin,  27,  175. 

Vies  commencees;   see  Frangois  Colletet. 

Vigenere,  19. 

Vigneul-Marville,  5,  13,  16,  17. 

Villefore,  29. 

Villeloin,  17. 

Villeneuve,  12. 

Villetoustain,  107. 

Voilier  des  Hisloires  romaines,  77  n. 

Voltaire,  4,  89  n.,  116,  117,  119  n. 

Vondel,  27  n. 

Vulgate;  see  Bible. 

Werner,  104  n. 

Zeitschrift  fur  franzosiche   Sprache  und 

Litteratur,  16  n.,  34  n. 
Zeno,  132,  132  n.,  169. 


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